


Hero of the Story

by kimmy_writes (WickedlyAwesomeMe)



Series: Hero of the Story [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst and Feels, But James and Sirius are the Shittiest of them Four, But fails miserably, Character Death, Characters Make Questionable Choices Because of Reasons, Depictions and Mentions of Violence, Eventual Smut, F/M, Good Peter Pettigrew, Grieving Hermione, Hermione Tries to Stick to Canon, Hermione is Sad and Tired, Hermione is Slightly OOC Because of Reasons, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Persistent Cussing, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Rare Pairings, Redemption Arc Galore, Said Character is Mostly Hermione, Slow Burn, Surprise Side-Pairings, The Marauders are Little Shites, This Fic Will Frustrate You Very Much, Time Travel Fix-It, Underage Drinking, first wizarding war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:14:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 57
Words: 364,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24720655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedlyAwesomeMe/pseuds/kimmy_writes
Summary: [Complete]Maybe, fate didn't want Hermione Granger to run away. Maybe, fate wanted Hermione Granger to change the world instead. || In which, with another chance at life, Hermione unexpectedly made heroes out of the usual villains.Marauders Era | Time Travel-ish/Alternate Universe | Slow burn James x Hermione
Relationships: Hermione Granger/James Potter
Series: Hero of the Story [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1936327
Comments: 1462
Kudos: 2459
Collections: AboutTime, HP Fics that change the world, Hermione Time-Travel Excellence, Hermione being awesome





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, holy crap, another story! This is my first time writing a fic set on the Marauders Era and it's all because of my current obsession for anything James Potter. Characterisations are based purely on the numerous fanfics I've read and some basic research so yeah. This is beyond my comfort zone (which is Dramione, of course), so I'll try my very best and I hope you give this fic a chance. Enjoy!

* * *

**prologue.**

_**you taught me the courage of stars** _

(Saturn by Sleeping at Last)

* * *

**December 14, 2000**

It was inexplicable how Hermione could still feel irrational terror whenever they ventured out in the open. They had been doing this for a long time, after all, had rigorous escape plans in case things blew out of proportions, and Harry's Invisibility Cloak proved to be a very reliable saving grace.

But one thing Hermione Granger learned from this unending war was that things always didn't work out, no matter how she was sure everything would turn out well at first.

(Example A: She and her best friends knew that the only way to bring Voldemort down was to destroy his horcruxes. Months passed, and still, they hadn't destroyed the last two.

Example B: She knew that after the end of it all, she would marry Ronald Bilius Weasley, pop beautiful, fiery children to reign terror over their quaint little garden. Not even an hour had passed during the Battle of Hogwarts, but Hermione witnessed firsthand how Dolohov had hit Ron with a well-aimed _Avada_.

Example C: She knew that she would continue fighting up until her last breath. But the year was coming to an end, and Hermione had already lost all hope).

Harry had been a constant companion. The-Boy-Who-Lived, who used to be the beacon of all light and hope in Hermione's starry eyes, was now reduced to an empty shell, hardened by war and grief. His emerald eyes held emptiness and despair that clenched the very strings of her heart. Looking at Harry was difficult nowadays because if her hero had blatantly lost hope, then what was Hermione supposed to do?

When Harry came to their small tent after a raid one time, he brought a questionable book that was thick with suffocating dark magic. Hermione had seen Harry's eyes by then, how they had gleamed with life and sudden light she hadn't seen these days, and hope blossomed in her heart.

"I brought a solution," he then had said, placed the dark book in front Hermione and flipped through the pages. When he paused and pointed at a curious potion, its illustration emitting dark blue steam she had never seen a potion emit before, Hermione's eyes quickly devoured the words racing out of the yellowing pages.

By the time she was finished, she glanced at Harry, the hope in her heart morphed into horror. "Harry…" she started. "But… this is—it's dark magic!"

Harry aged quickly before her eyes as he slumped forward, his forehead almost touching the book. "Hermione," he whispered, his voice flowing into the frigid air and biting her cold cheeks. "It's been too long. The war had stretched for too long and -" His breath hitched as his eyes shone, furiously looking away from Hermione to hide the tears she knew were forming. Harry always hated to cry in front of her. "I'm so tired of fighting, Hermione."

She choked out a sob and tightly held onto his hand with both of her own, clutching onto him like he was her lifeline.

Therefore, although reluctant, she finally relented and started brewing the potion just to appease Harry's weary heart.

For the next few days, it felt refreshing to know that they were finally focusing on a plan. Hermione swallowed down her trepidation – _'Will this really work? Will we really escape from this reality?'_ – and her mind, which hadn't been challenged for a very long time, focused solely on perfecting the potion. Hermione sometimes fancied herself into thinking she was back at the Potions laboratory, trying to best Malfoy into brewing the perfect potion which Snape even couldn't deny. Harry had a newfound rigor too, as he procured the ingredients that were too rare and dangerous but was still able to collect them all. Hermione never questioned his methods of obtaining such things. She knew by the way Harry's hand shook while he slept that it was through things he would later on regret.

Soon, months flew by, and the potion was nearing its completion. The last ingredient it needed were chimera scales which Hermione knew could never be found in England but on the outskirts of France, safe from the hands of people who would use it for their own personal gain. They packed away their things and Hermione carefully placed the potion under the Stasis Charm, risked the use of an illegally-made International Portkey, and found themselves blinking widely at a quaint, beautiful French town that never seemed to be touched by the Second Wizarding War.

Unknowing tears formed in Hermione's eyes as she watched the little children running around, throwing snowballs at each other until they were wet and cold and absolutely happy.

"We should finish it quickly before they find us," Harry whispered, voice strangely choked as he started trudging towards a lovely hotel at the center of the town.

As Harry, hidden under the Invisibility Cloak, went out of the hotel to roam around, in search of the elusive chimera scales, Hermione found herself rereading the texts on the potion they would be completed soon.

_"… beware for the effects had been unknown. The potion brewed from the darkest of ingredients, harvested from dangerous creatures, might take a month, a year, perhaps a hundred more. Once completed, with a shade of the darkest blue, two gulps are all you need to escape from this reality. No one knew where you will be brought. In another time, perhaps in another universe, but know this, drinker, that wherever you are brought to will be far away from your reality."_

The potion's description almost sounded like it was written for a cheap, fiction book. It never offered facts, of accounts and testimonies of witches or wizards who attempted to brew the potion. There were no statistics of success, of deaths and accidents due to a botched potion, and Hermione's rational brain could not accept the ridiculousness of it all. But Harry had been adamant, explaining that if they wanted to get another shot in life, they should try this. Hermione once suggested using a Time-Turner. She could experiment, tinker with it a bit until she built a prototype that would bring them a few years back and not mere hours so that they could change the course of the events if they really wanted to win.

But Harry… Harry was laughing, maniacal and helpless and so, so anguished and Hermione started crying. "Don't you understand, Hermione?" he croaked, reaching out for her shaking hand with his equally shaking one. "I don't want to live this life anymore."

Hermione never voiced aloud that the potion could kill them if it wasn't brewed perfectly. With the amount of dark magic emitted she would create after finishing the potion, she knew that once consumed, it was either you become successful or you die. There was no in-between. And Hermione knew that Harry had this inkling, too, and she didn't like the look in his eyes every time she complained that it wasn't the right shade after adding a pint of each of their blood, or how she had added a little too much basilisk venom. Harry looked like whether he lived another life in a different world or died in this reality, it wouldn't matter to him because he could finally escape this cruel burden.

When Harry went back that night, excitedly telling her about an old merchant selling chimera scales living in the woods near the small town, Hermione tightly smiled and let Harry prattle on about how he was going to live in this other life. He always wanted to be a Professional Quidditch Star, or maybe he'd be a dragon tamer, too. His maybes flowed out of his mouth like a raging waterfall, breaking through with a might Hermione knew she couldn't stop, and by the time Harry was recounting his hopes and dreams, he was a shaking heap on the wooden floor and crying his heart out.

Harry fell asleep on the floor that night and Hermione didn't try to move him on the bed. Sleep had been elusive to Harry Potter for a few years now and the way his chest rose and fell with quiet rhythm meant it was a peaceful sleep. Hermione crawled beside Harry and gently removed his glasses. She then draped an arm over his shoulders, cradling his head against her chest and silently cried in his hair.

* * *

Hermione shot the old merchant a suspicious glance while Harry carefully placed ten chimera scales into a pouch. He had been acting strangely ever since they went inside his store.

"Harry, come on," she murmured under her breath, grasping his hand and pulling him away. Hermione could feel the man's eyes piercing their backs and the hair at the back of her neck prickled with fear. Her hold on Harry tightened, and she almost felt naked under the kind smiles of the townspeople despite their practiced disguise.

Harry looked lighter and happier by the time they reached the lobby of the hotel. "Do you think I should be the one to place the chimera scales?" he asked, his emerald eyes gleaming playfully under the brightly lit lamp of the hotel.

Hermione blinked and glanced over her best friend. "And ruin the potion?" she teased. "Not a chance, Harry."

He threw his head back for the first time and heartily laughed. Hermione had forgotten the discomfort she felt when they ventured into the old merchant's shop and smiled genuinely at him. She couldn't wait to see them happy once again.

But then, Harry's face darkened into an equal mixture of shock and rage. His wand was quickly on his hand, poised to attack, and with dread, Hermione followed his line of vision and swallowed. The kind receptionist, a pretty, blonde girl of nineteen who had blatantly flirted with Harry's disguised self, was pinned to the wall, held in place by various scraps of metal from the exploded cash register beside her. She stared at them with the familiar lifeless eyes of those who died under the mercy of the Killing Curse and Hermione felt instantly dreadful.

Her wand slid down her sleeves and she slowly glanced around. The lobby was devoid of any people and the air was so still it almost felt like a sin to breathe and disturb the silence.

Outside, a loud _'MORSMORDRE'_ reverberated through the walls, bathing the whole hotel with ominous green they had been acquainted with for years.

"RUN!" Harry screamed as numerous spells flew through the windows, crashing the glass and blasting the wood altogether. Through the chaos, Hermione was able to grasp onto Harry's rough hand and blindly followed him through the foray, hurtling practiced hexes and protective spells over her shoulder at the flurry of robes and footsteps closely following them from behind.

The air was hazy with smoke, dust, and blinding flashes of light and it was a miracle when they were able to stumble into their small room. Hermione breathed out a sigh of relief when she saw that the potion remained untouched. "Give me the chimera scales!" she exclaimed, and Harry threw her the pouch without even looking at her.

Hermione fell in front of the potion and shakily placed exactly ten chimera scales. Outside, the chaos grew louder and harsher and Hermione had to stop herself from hovering her face over the potion to keep it safe from her terrified tears.

"Hurry, Hermione!" Harry rasped out and Hermione stiffly nodded her head and vigorously mixed the potion, concentrating on not mixing more or less than twenty times.

Their door was suddenly blasted off its hinges and the glinting masks of Death Eaters greeted them menacingly. Hermione's breath hitched when one Death Eater was able to disarm Harry and kick him down onto his knees.

"HA—" She tried to scream but he cut her off with a hovering hand.

"You've lost, Harry Potter," a Death Eater said and despite the mask, Hermione knew they were rejoicing.

"Harry," she weakly whispered, stopping her mixing to hopelessly stare at her best friend's back.

Harry craned his head over his shoulders and looked at her. His emerald eyes were gleaming with life and radiance, despite the darkness that surrounded this small, dingy room. His face was cast over by various colors from the chaos outside, but she was able to see a small smile on his face.

For a moment, she saw a glimpse of the old Harry – _her_ old Harry – who was reckless and brave and so very kind. Gone was the warrior wearied down by war and turmoil, but a child once more who genuinely wanted everything to become good and wonderful.

"Go, Hermione," he whispered, a small tear slipping down from his glinting eyes.

"No, no, I can't go without you," she sobbed, clutching the ladle to her chest.

Harry briefly closed his eyes and when he opened them once more, they were of those filled with love. "Live a happy life, Hermione," he said. The Death Eater snarled and exclaimed a booming _'Avada Kedavra'_. Hermione screamed when the green light hit Harry squarely on his chest. The light from his bright eyes dimmed until there was only emptiness.

Harry slumped onto his side, unmoving.

Sudden rage fueled her veins, glaring furiously at the Death Eaters through blurry eyes. She placed the ladle back into the cauldron and mixed once, twice, thrice, until it boasted the dark blue color it was supposed to have.

Numerous wands pointed at her. Hermione desperately grabbed onto the steaming cauldron, ignoring the scorching pain that had bloomed on both of her palms. Three green lights shot from their wands, the _Avada_ hurtling towards her, and before they hit her on her chest, Hermione took two mighty gulps and everything burst into a blinding light as white as the morning's snow.


	2. chapter one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, before you start reading, please be mindful of the dates before the start of a scene just so you don't get confused. 
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

**i.**

_**our universe was brought to life - part i** _

(Sun by Sleeping at Last)

* * *

**March 19, 1962**

Hermione's body felt wrong.

She tried to move her limbs around, wanting to see if she was injured from the effects of the potion she had consumed. But try as she might, her bones felt raw and painful. She opened her mouth to cry out in pain, but instead of hearing her usual sob, a piercing cry from a baby rang throughout the room.

"Hush, now, love, dry your tears," a soft, melodious voice crooned.

Hermione clamped her mouth shut in confusion and tried to open her eyes, wanting to see the source of that soothing voice. Someone was caressing her cheeks and although she would have normally felt annoyed at being touched on her face, this hand was soft and warm like a mother's.

She tried to wriggle once more, begging for her eyes to open, and when she finally opened them, a burst of multicolored light greeted her. She squinted her eyes and cried once more in pain, and again, the noisy cries of a baby filled her ears. "Who's making that noise?" she tried to ask, but no words tumbled out from her mouth. Instead, the noisy cries grew and grew, until it was deafening and Hermione started to panic.

She was suddenly lifted into the air and Hermione wriggled around again, but when she was pressed against softness and warmth, she stilled. At the same time, the cries were soothed away and the woman started humming a soft lullaby under her breath.

"Yes, good girl," she gently whispered, dropping a kiss on the crown of Hermione's head. "Hush now, my love."

Hermione blinked her wide eyes once more and was surprised to be pressed lovingly against the woman's chest. Wildly confused, she grasped onto the brown curls of the woman, ones that almost rivaled her own and expelled a loud cry when she saw how puny her hands had become. She stilled when the woman shifted her in her arms and glanced down at her, with eyes of the deepest blue and a smile like the radiant sun.

"Hello, Hermione," she cooed, brushing away her tears tenderly. Hermione flinched away but was unable to get too far, as the woman held her close to her chest again and hummed a lullaby under her breath.

 _'Did it work?'_ Hermione asked herself, wiggling around once more to take in the room she was in. She was in a small room, walls painted blue with a single wall clock hanging on one wall. There was a lovely painted sun on the ceiling and when Hermione glanced down once more, she could make out a crib that was most undoubtedly hers.

When the book spoke about another timeline – another _universe_ – Hermione didn't expect that she would become a baby once more. She expected to be thrust into another world, still very much in her own body, and starting her life anew.

Still, she couldn't complain. The potion was selfish with words and no one really knew what would happen if it was successful. She was glad that she was, at least, alive.

Suddenly excited, she wriggled wildly in the woman's arms until she had no choice but to deposit her back into her crib.

 _'It worked!'_ Hermione exclaimed, chanting in her head again and again. She tried to search for Harry, to tell him about the news, but when the events of last time flashed through her little mind's eye, she remembered her Harry had died and she had been the only one able to drink the potion.

Hermione plopped down on the crib, eyes wide and unseeing as the impact of Harry's death overwhelmed her. _Harry was dead_ and she was all alone in this new world. Tears slipped down from her eyes once more, but no cries left her mouth, as she gazed at the beautiful woman still humming under her breath. The woman's eyes would dart over her frequently, her eyes soft and loving, and it could not be doubted that this was a look from a mother.

But this wasn't Hermione's mother. Her mother had dark brown, straight hair, and chestnut-brown eyes. Hermione got her unruly hair from her father and her eyes from her mother – a perfect combination of Jean and Harold Granger.

The grief that she was alone in this new world almost suffocated her whole. There was no Harry. Her mother was a stranger. And she was all alone.

Pattering footsteps from outside her crib snapped her from her thoughts and she watched curiously as a boy, perhaps a year older than her, came inside with tears in his eyes. He looked awfully familiar, but Hermione wasn't sure where she'd seen him before.

He was small and adorably plump, with sandy hair that was more wavy than curly, and deep blue eyes that resembled the woman. His bottom lip was quivering when he tugged the woman's sleeve. She glanced down and warmly smiled at the boy, lifting him off the floor to deposit him on her lap.

"Why are you crying?" she asked, lovingly wiping his tears away.

"Mama, cat," he cried, lifting his little finger and showing a small scratch with a pearl-shaped drop of blood. "Bite, bite!"

"Oh, Peter," the woman tutted with a disapproving sigh. "I told you to stay away from Mrs. Jones's cat. He doesn't like to be touched, remember?"

"No, no, play!" he whined, his tears now thankfully gone, replaced by a small pout gracing his features.

The woman was unable to act disgruntled for long, as she laughed and gathered him into her arms, pressing him against her chest like how she had done with Hermione. "I'll wait for your sister to nap and then we can play, Peter, okay?"

"Okay," he echoed, clutching onto one of her brown curls.

The boy, _her brother_ – Peter – glanced at Hermione and she watched as a wide, lopsided grin appeared on his face. He jumped down from their mother's lap and toddled towards the crib. His gaze was warm and happy, and Hermione found herself drawn towards the adorable boy. She lifted her small hand and clutched his finger, prompting the boy to giggle.

"My-knee, hi," he greeted.

The woman – _her mother_ – then stood up from her chair and carried Peter in her arms. "I'll let you watch the telly first before your father comes home, Peter," she said, smiling when the boy happily squealed in her arms. "After I put Hermione to sleep, we can play."

Hermione watched as the woman and the boy – _her mother and brother_ – walked out from her nursery. She rolled under her crib blanket and wondered what universe she was thrust into. As the exhaustion of the day finally reached her, Hermione closed her eyes and hoped tomorrow would be better.

* * *

**December 25, 1963**

Two-year-old Hermione Pettigrew glanced at her reflection in the mirror and frowned. Her hair, although still impossibly curly, was a few shades lighter than her normal dark brown. The eyes staring back at her were the deepest blue – identical to her mother and brother.

Her _brother_.

It didn't take long for the infant Hermione to understand that the boy who called her My-Knee the first time she had arrived in this world, was none other than a young Peter Pettigrew. The shock of being related to a traitor had rankled Hermione's bones, and she had cried nonstop – so much so, that not even her mother – Anya Pettigrew – could appease her. It made her skin crawl, knowing she was related to a person that had unremorsefully betrayed his best friends and paved the way to Harry Potter's life being full of pain and misery.

She always cried when Peter tried to touch her or play with her. It had devastated her brother so much, who clearly loved her like one of his favourite toy cars, but Anya would only assure him that she was still a baby and she'd grow up to love him unconditionally too. Peter would then be contented in watching over her when her mother was away doing the chores and showing her all the toys he loved.

Hermione appreciated his efforts very much, and he'd been sweet too. She knew he wasn't yet the evil man from her world, and she couldn't fault him for something he hadn't done yet. So, when he reached out to hold her hand, smiling silly over something he saw in the park or something he'd seen on the television, Hermione would curl her hand around his and listen to him with rapt attention.

He was a bright, happy boy, with so much love to give. Their mother doted upon him like he was her very sun, and Hermione found herself warming up to the boy as the months passed by. He was her brother after all; she was an only child in her old life, and she had wished for a brother once if given the chance.

Said brother suddenly burst into her room, an annoyed frown plastered on his chubby face. "'Mione," the four-year-old whined. "What's taking you so long? It's Christmas!"

Hermione sheepishly smiled and looked back at her reflection for the last time before glancing at Peter. "Sorry, come," she softly claimed.

Peter expelled an exasperated sigh and trudged forward, clutching tightly onto Hermione's hand and excitedly pulling her from her dreary bedroom.

Her eyes adjusted to their brightly lit living room and she smiled when their mother came into view. She was bustling around, fixing an errant bauble from their small Christmas tree, and neatly stacking the presents underneath. She had her hair held up with a thin elastic band, which Hermione undoubtedly believed would snap soon under the pressure of her equally unruly hair.

The frown on Peter's face morphed into a delighted grin as he spotted the chocolate cake placed on top of their coffee table. He persistently tugged Hermione until she had no choice but to run faster behind him. When they reached the delectable dessert, Peter broke away from her and sat right in front of the cake.

"Not yet, love," Anya admonished, glaring lightly down at her son who was about to steal a small slice. Then, she looked at Hermione and smiled lovingly at her daughter. "Merry Christmas, Hermione."

"Merry Christmas, Mummy," she greeted in return, accepting the warm hug the woman had given her. Hermione's parents – the _old_ ones – were not exactly openly affectionate. She knew that her dentist parents loved her endlessly through their smiles and words, but they were never one to pull her into a tight hug and drop kisses on the crown of her head.

But Anya Pettigrew made her love known through a loving touch or a warm embrace. It was a nice change, and although she had been Hermione's mother for merely two years, the young brunette knew she loved her very, very much.

"Can we open presents now?" Peter asked, hope in his blue eyes.

Anya's smile fell a bit. "We have to wait for Daddy first, Peter, okay?" she said.

A brief flash of fear crossed Peter's eyes but he didn't reply. He slumped forward and stared at the cake. "I wish he would just disappear," he murmured under his breath.

"Peter!" Anya gasped, scandalised.

Peter frowned at his mother and petulantly crossed his arms across his chest.

Hermione wordlessly reached for her brother and squeezed his arm. Peter mellowed down and unwound his tight arms and held Hermione's hand once more. "Don't be sad, Petey," she gently said. "It's Christmas."

She pointedly ignored how Anya's eyes glistened with her words, or how she desperately hid the violent bruise on her wrist with the sleeve of her lovely blouse.

"Okay, you're right, 'Mione," Peter said with a resolute nod, squeezing her hand in return.

While Anya bustled away to make some last-minute preparations for their little Christmas celebration, Hermione took that time to glance around the house which had quickly become her home. There were numerous unmoving pictures of her and Peter decorating the shelves of their small living room. The Pettigrew family lived comfortably, and although they weren't as well off as the Grangers, Anya compensated by decorating every corner of their small apartment with love and warmth. It still disturbed Hermione how her mother, who was a Pureblood witch, chose to live in a small Muggle town to start a family with their Muggle father.

If Anya was the sun in their life, Timothy Pettigrew was the thunderstorm. Every time he was at home, he left destruction in his wake. He was responsible enough to be the sole provider of the family, but his love for alcohol even surpassed his love for his family. Hermione could hear Anya mutter to herself, convincing herself again and again that he didn't mean it when he slapped her across the face, that it was her fault he would explode like a volatile volcano, and that he loved her – loved his family – no matter what he did.

Hermione glanced at Peter and wondered if, in her world, he had had to endure the wrath of Timothy Pettigrew too.

Her gaze shifted to her mother once more and she also wondered why Anya never used magic to protect herself from her abusive husband. Hermione never saw her mother use her wand when Timothy was home, and she reckoned her father wasn't fully supportive of their magical background. Hermione couldn't imagine herself living with someone who'd forbid her from using her magic – the very reason why she was alive and breathing. But it was plain to see that Anya loved her husband very much, too much even, and Hermione prayed every single night that her mother would realize one day that she and Peter alone would be enough for her.

She suddenly tensed when she heard the violent rattling of their doorknob. Anya stood ramrod straight and smoothed down her dress and waited until her drunkard husband swayed inside, an amber bottle clutched tightly in his hand.

"Hello, Tim," her mother greeted. "How was your day?"

Timothy snorted and took a few gulps from his beer. "Same old," he flippantly said, bending forwards to remove his shoes and throwing them away. "What's for dinner?"

"Chicken and mashed potato, love," she said with a hesitant smile. Hermione held her breath as a dark shadow crossed over Timothy's face.

He then snapped his neck towards Anya and glared at her. "I told you I hate chicken," he snarled.

Anya's shoulders tensed, but she steadfastly held her husband's gaze. "It's Christmas," she insisted. "The children love chicken."

An ugly sneer appeared on his face. He smashed his beer loudly on the floor, causing glass shards to fly everywhere. Peter cried out as a few pieces scattered on the ground beside him, consequently marring the palm of his hand.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Anya?!" Timothy snarled, flying through the living room until he was breathing down on their mother. Anya cowered in fear and tried to squirm away, but his bruising hold on both of her wrists kept her in place.

Fear and anger flowed through Hermione's veins and she started to wail aloud, just to keep his attention off her lovely mother. This did the trick, for Tim's hold slackened as he now glared down at the wailing Hermione.

"Shut up!" he snarled, lifting his hand to smack her down. But Anya caught his wrist and sobbed, begging him to spare their children and to just hit her instead.

Hermione's cries increased, wondering why her mother wasn't fighting back, wondering why she didn't _blast_ him off with a hex just to keep their family happy.

Peter was determinedly tugging her onto her feet until Hermione had no choice but to follow him. Her brother silently led her inside her own bedroom, flinching when loud crashes and screams erupted outside once they couldn't see their parents.

Her brother tightly wrapped his arms around her and brushed her tears away. "It's all right, 'Mione," he whispered, voice also thick with tears of fear. "It's all right. We're safe here. We're safe."

* * *

**July 25, 1966**

Hermione stared at the angry bruise on her mother's neck and frowned. "Mum," she said, "you're hurt."

"Hmm?" Anya replied, seemingly distracted as she patted her injured neck and went back to making her warm cocoa. "Would you like some marshmallows, Hermione?"

"Yes, please," she quietly replied, internally sighing at her mother's change in topic. Whilst her dentist parents adamantly refused to indulge Hermione with sweets, even as a child, Anya had no hesitations in generously satisfying her sweet tooth. Hermione almost felt ashamed of craving chocolate and sweets, but after being deprived for so long, she just couldn't help herself. Toffees, most especially, were becoming her most favourite sweet treat. To compensate, she reverently brushed her teeth at night until her gums almost bled, much to Anya's horror.

Hermione was five years old now and had shown some signs of magic. Anya was delighted that both of her children had magic, but at the same time, feared Timothy's wrath. She tried her very hardest to keep this secret from their father, but accidental magic was bound to happen at some point. When their father had discovered that both of his children also had the gift, he'd gone ballistic and had almost killed Anya. Hermione was still traumatised by that day and had begged her mother to leave the bastard because she had really come to love both Anya and Peter and she wanted them safe. But Anya merely held her children close to her chest and soothed their tears, despite the pained look on her face.

Her head swivelled around at the sound of the door bursting open. Their small kitchen was suddenly filled with Peter's loud sobs as he pattered towards their mother. Anya glanced down at Peter in surprise, then worriedly hugged him close. "What happened, Peter?" she asked with worry. "Why are you crying?"

"My friends hate me, Mum," he cried, loudly sniffing and haphazardly wiping his tears away. Hermione watched in amusement as snot trailed down from her brother's nose and dripped onto Anya's blouse. Their mother didn't seem to mind, though, as she was busy appeasing him.

"And why do you say that?" Anya asked, rubbing his back to relay as much comfort as she could.

"They said… they said I'm a freak!" he wailed. He buried his tearstained face on Anya's neck, unable to see her flinch when he pressed against her bruise. "I-I told them I could make my ball fly but they just laughed at me, Mum. And… and I was so mad I told them, 'I can!', but they just continued to laugh and… and…" He paused and gulped a lungful of air. Hermione almost smiled at how he floundered with words. "And then, I made the ball fly, and they screamed, called me a freak and told me they're not my friends anymore."

"Oh, sweetheart," Anya sighed with a small smile. "You're not a freak. You're _special_."

Peter closed his mouth and sniffed, now pulling his face away from his mother's neck to look at her. "Spe-special?" he stuttered.

Anya resolutely nodded her head. "Yes, you're a very special boy," she said. She glanced over his head to smile at Hermione. The brunette smiled a toothy grin in return. "And Hermione, too. Both of you are special, okay? Because you both have magic. And once you turn eleven, you'll meet other special people like you in Hogwarts, and you can ask them to be your friends."

"I can?" he asked, his blue eyes widening in childlike wonder.

"Yes, love, you can," their mother said with a brilliant smile.

Hermione, on the other hand, deeply frowned and jumped from her chair. "No!" she exclaimed, much to their surprise. "No, no, no friends."

Anya knitted her eyebrows in confusion, unsure why her daughter was acting this way. Peter's face crumpled once more and he started to wail loudly again.

"You're right, you're right, nobody will like me," he cried.

"Hermione," Anya admonished.

But Hermione resolutely stood her ground and stomped towards Peter. If this weird, alternate universe was almost the same as the one she had lived in the past, then Peter Pettigrew was going to be friends with James Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin. If that didn't happen, then perhaps Peter wouldn't be driven to betray his friends. If Peter didn't become friends with them, then Harry Potter would be able to live with two, very much alive parents, who'd love him, clothe him, and feed him.

"No, no, _I'll_ be your friend," Hermione continued, grabbing onto Peter's hand and forcing him to look in her eyes. "You can't make friends in Hogwarts, Peter. _No_. I'll be your friend… your _best friend_."

Anya's eyes widened in surprise, before smiling amusedly down at her daughter. Peter's tears had thankfully abated, but he was now wrinkling his nose in disgust. "But you're a girl," he pointed out matter-of-factly. "I can't be best friends with girls. Girls are… are _icky_." He spoke it like it was the universal truth, and Hermione would have found it hilarious, but her heart grew indignant instead.

"I'm not icky!" Hermione cried in return. She struggled to form proper words that would rebut his claim, but her brain, cursed to be intellectually younger than her twenty-one-year-old self, was only able to say, "I brush my teeth and I take a bath. I'm not _icky_!"

She almost cringed at the poor rebuttal she'd blurted out. Anya burst into laughter while Peter glowered and proceeded to list down other reasons why he thought girls were icky, and why he didn't want to be her best friend.

Hermione stomped her foot in anger. _'Why couldn't he understand?'_ she shrilly cried in her mind, frustratingly pulling onto her curls. Tears now welled in her eyes - she wanted to be his best friend instead, just to spare him from his possible evil path and to keep Harry Potter, and many others, happy.

Seeing her daughter's absolute distress, Anya became alarmed at Hermione's tears. Even Peter stopped crying and eyed his sister's tears warily.

To her surprise, her brother expelled a huge sigh and held her hand. "All right, 'Mione, I'll be your friend," he begrudgingly said. "Just don't cry, please. Don't cry."

Hermione nodded her head and wiped her tears away. Anya fondly stared down at her children and reached out to wipe away Hermione's remaining tears.

"All right, all right, no more fighting," their mother claimed. "Why don't you both sit down on chairs and wait for me to prepare your warm cocoas?"

Both Peter and Hermione nodded their heads and clambered onto their seats, forgetting about their childish fight as they tasted Anya's delicious warm cocoa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the comments, bookmarks, and kudos! I really appreciated all of them. 
> 
> There are two reasons why this story was born: Reason#1 - my current obsession for anything James Potter, and reason#2 - Peter Pettigrew. I think we can all agree that Peter Pettigrew's character is usually glossed over fanfiction. He's the traitor by default so I thought to myself "Hey! What if Peter Pettigrew has a bigger role?" So, here it is! Did you know he's the only Marauder without an exact birthday/family background. HP Wiki and other similar pages only said that he's a Half-blood with a witch Mother and a muggle Father. Even JKR didn't bother giving him a detailed family background smh
> 
> Anyway, drop a comment if you like!


	3. chapter two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy smokes you guys! I was so surprised with how well-received the last chapter was. Not sure if I should start panicking because now you expect so much from this monstrous story or what… :O I'm not even on the good parts yet!
> 
> Special thanks to my Beta, lozipozivanillabean!

* * *

**ii.**

_**our universe was brought to life – part ii** _

(Sun by Sleeping at Last)

* * *

**January 30, 1971**

"Really, Hermione? Reading again?"

She lifted her blue eyes from her book and glanced at her brother. Ten-year-old Peter leant against her doorframe with an amused smile on his face. Tucked underneath his armpit was his worn, but clearly beloved skateboard. It still amused Hermione immensely when she discovered Peter Pettigrew loved to play with his skateboard during his youth; she never really imagined the rat as being fond of it, much less _brilliant_ at it. She always knew his accidental magic was at play, but it didn't ease their poor mother's heart when she saw some of the weird stunts her son would pull on the road.

"I like to read," she said, finally realising she hadn't retorted anything in return. Her brother slinked inside her room and plopped down on her bed, laying the skateboard beside him.

"It's _summer_ ," Peter claimed as if it was reason enough to question Hermione's hobbies. "Why don't you play with other children or something?"

"We're freaks in this neighbourhood, remember?" she quipped, closing her copy of _Charlotte's Web_ and placing it on her desk. She glanced over at her brother and saw the small smile on his face.

"Of course," he sighed, a tad melodramatically, but Hermione knew he wasn't offended anymore. People had spoken about how eccentric the Pettigrew siblings were. Anya had tried to enrol her children in a Muggle primary school before they received their letter for Hogwarts, just to let them learn the basics math and science which they wouldn't otherwise learn. But, with Peter's disdain and Hermione's blatant disinterest in studying, coupled with the strange happenings that followed them wherever they went, Anya gave up and pulled them from school and taught them instead.

Since then, parents in their neighbourhood warned their children to keep away from the Pettigrew children because they were bound to get hurt. Although Hermione didn't mind it at all, since she wasn't interested in making friends anyway, it had deeply hurt Peter. The boy just wanted to belong in a small group of friends; Hermione now understood why his adult counterpart desperately hero-worshipped Sirius Black and James Potter before joining Voldemort's minions.

She tried her hardest to let him know that being at home, with her and their mother, was enough to keep him happy. Anya had been a blessing, keeping her children busy from the sorrow of their isolation, and Hermione wondered what had happened to Peter Pettigrew that made him the evil man he was when he had a mother like Anya Pettigrew.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione then asked, slipping away from her small desk to approach her brother. She sat at the foot of her bed and quizzically stared at him.

"Mum's making me wash the dishes," Peter explained, a meaningful glance thrown her way.

Hermione had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. " _And_?" she urged.

"Come on, 'Mione," he insisted, sitting up from her bed. "I _hate_ washing dishes. And you're brilliant at it. You did say you enjoy washing the dishes."

"You can't always get away from your chores, Petey," she sighed, prompting him to sheepishly smile.

He then rummaged inside his pocket to pull out several toffees she loved dearly. "Peace offering?" he innocently asked.

Hermione snorted. " _Bribery_ seems more fitting," she said but grabbed the delectable sweets nonetheless. "Just this once, Peter."

"You're the best sister ever," Peter said with a brilliant grin, pulling her close to give her a warm hug. In spite of herself, Hermione's lips quirked into a small smile. It really wasn't hard to become fond of this boy when he'd been kind and warm to her since she was young.

Peter then jumped down from her bed and clutched his skateboard once more. "I'll be playing outside if Mum asks for me," he said.

"Be careful."

He waved his hand in goodbye and strode out from her room.

Hermione sighed and collected her bushy hair to attempt a ponytail. She glanced at her reflection and made a face, knowing her hair would rebel soon and spring out from her elastic band. Funnily enough, even in this lifetime, her stubborn hair had followed her with fierce determination.

Sighing once more, Hermione slid down from her bed and walked out of her bedroom. She halted midway when she saw that Peter was still there. "Why are you—"

He turned around, grave-faced, and pressed a finger against his lips. Hermione clammed up and peered over his shoulders, flinching when she heard an unmistakable slap. She swallowed down a gasp when Timothy roared another thunderous tirade and glanced down her feet to block whatever was going to happen next. At the same time, she noticed Peter's tightly clenched fists. She wouldn't be surprised if half-moon marks had appeared on his palm.

Hermione reached forward and brushed her fingers along his knuckles until the tension escaped his hands and he started to relax.

When another resounding slap rang in their home, Hermione's eyes prickled with tears and she really tried her hardest to steel herself in place. She wanted to help her mother, even after all these years, but all her attempts only made Timothy hurt her mother more. Hermione's temper always flared up when she saw another bruise on her mother, and Peter had to calm her down so that she wouldn't interfere and make everything worse.

At times like these, Hermione longed for a wand just so she could hex Timothy raw for hurting the woman who did nothing but love and understand him.

A piercing scream echoed in their home and Hermione's blood ran cold. Paling in horror, she glanced towards her parents once more and gasped at the pool of blood dripping down from Anya's arm after Timothy slashed a shard of beer glass against her.

Everything stilled by then. Even Hermione didn't dare breathe, too afraid of disturbing the deathly silence.

And then, Peter was suddenly in front of his mother, hands spread apart in a mighty attempt to protect her. His blue eyes were dark and tumultuous like a raging storm and Hermione stared. She hadn't seen that expression on his face before. Peter was always quiet and kind and didn't really stand up too much against his bullies. But the Peter in front of her was almost like a giant, ready to do whatever it took to protect their mother from the despicable monster.

"Stop hurting her," were his mere words, but his voice was steady and commanding. Hermione felt the hairs on her arms prickle at his ferocity.

Timothy's eyes, black and dark like how his soul had always been, grew thunderous. He lifted his hand and smacked Peter across his face with so much force that her brother toppled on the ground. Anya screamed and begged to spare her son, to _hit me, hit me instead, hit me please_ , and Hermione still stood frozen on the spot.

Then, blinding rage bloomed in her heart as she watched the two people she loved the most get harassed by this man she had never seen as her father. _'No, no,_ no,' she chanted repeatedly in her head.

Nobody hurts the people she loved. _Nobody_.

Her vision swam with the tears she didn't realise were already steadily streaming down her face. And before she could come to their rescue, Peter was back on his feet and growling darkly at Timothy. The air pulsed with raging magic and horror briefly flitted across Timothy's face. Hermione almost gagged at how suffocating the raw magic was and before she knew it, Peter's accidental magic concentrated at one point before it shot straight into Timothy's chest. Their father flew in the air and he smashed against the small shelf behind him. A sickening crack was heard and Anya screamed, immediately standing up and running towards the unconscious man.

This also snapped Hermione out of her stupor and she ran towards her brother. The accidental magic Peter released had exhausted him so much. He swayed on his feet and landed on his knees. If it weren't for Hermione, he would have collapsed on the ground into a messy heap.

"Peter, Peter, are you all right?" she worriedly asked, noting how pale and clammy he'd become. Her question didn't seem to register, as his blue eyes, now coloured with terror, stared at the scene behind Hermione.

Upon hearing Anya's choked sob, Hermione craned her neck and looked over her shoulder. Her heart almost stuttered at the sight of blood, _so much blood_ , pooling behind Timothy's head.

Peter started to shake in her arms and Hermione tried to shield him from the scene he had caused.

* * *

**February 3, 1971**

The funeral was brief and cold. Timothy Pettigrew was a hateful man, after all.

Hermione very much didn't want to attend his funeral, because he'd caused enough turmoil in her new family, but Anya helped her get dressed into the stuffiest black dress she had ever had to wear. Hermione wanted to complain, but the look in Anya's eyes made her bite her tongue. There were still bruises hidden behind her black robe and Hermione very much wanted to use a healing spell on her mother's wounds. But of course, without the aid of her wand, she couldn't do so.

After the accident, Anya had called for an ambulance. Timothy was already declared dead even before he arrived at the hospital, his skull cracked wide open, his brain slipping down from its usual place. Anya stiffly explained that everything was an accident, that her husband came home drunk and slipped on their wet floor, hitting his head against the shelf and consequently killing him.

Hermione could see that the doctors were doubting her words, and she tightly held onto Peter's hand, afraid that they'd discover that his accidental magic had caused all of this. But she also saw how the doctors glanced at Anya's wounds, obvious signs of abuse, and hadn't said anything about the strange death of Timothy Pettigrew.

The funeral had long ended and Anya was thanking the visitors for attending. Nobody had shed a tear for Timothy, which was saddening really, but then again, he was _a hateful man_.

Anya never spoke about the incident after his death. When they went home from the hospital that night, she gathered both her children in her arms and earnestly cried.

Hermione knew it wasn't of sorrow.

Hermione knew it was of relief.

And Hermione hated herself for feeling relieved, too, because despite how he'd treated their mother all these years, he didn't deserve to die.

"Come on," Hermione murmured to her silent brother when Anya waved them over.

When Peter didn't budge, Hermione frowned and peered up at him. Peter's blue eyes were swimming with tears, utter remorse almost too unnatural to be seen in a young boy like him.

"I killed him, Hermione."

She stilled. Peter hadn't spoken after that incident, and although she was worried sick over her brother, she knew he needed some space to think about his actions. Anya clearly didn't blame him; although she never said it aloud, her actions were understandable enough to know that she never held her son accountable for what had happened to their father.

"It was an accident, Peter," Hermione insisted, holding onto his hand to make him understand. "Don't beat yourself over this."

A tear slipped down from his eyes and he blinked them away. "You've seen what I was capable of," he hissed. "Maybe… maybe I was destined to become like him after all. Maybe I am _evil_ too."

Cold fear gripped her heart very tightly. "No, _no_ , you are not like him," she exclaimed with such vehemence. "You're not evil, Peter."

"But you've seen—"

"Any witch or wizard placed under duress would have released similarly mighty accidental magic, too," she reasoned out. "Especially us children who haven't been taught how to control it yet."

She thought of her Harry, how he had random bouts of accidental magic when his feelings were roaring and palpable.

"I didn't mean…" He started to cry, huge tears rolling down from his eyes. "I didn't mean to kill him. I promise. I _promise_."

"I know," she croaked, her eyes also filling with tears at the raw guilt on her brother's face. "Mum knows, too, Peter. Nobody blames you."

He bowed his head, his shoulders shaking, and Hermione reached forward to give him a comforting hug. "Nobody blames you, Peter," she whispered. "Stop blaming yourself too."

They stood there clinging to each other until Anya approached them. Upon seeing the tears in their eyes, Anya questioningly looked at Hermione. The young witch merely shook her head and tightened her arms around Peter.

"Oh, my sweetheart," Anya whispered, tears slipping down from her eyes. "My sweet, sweet boy."

Peter broke away from Hermione and launched into their mother's warm arms. Anya cradled Peter like he was a new-born once more, dropping soothing kisses and whispering words of love that only made him cry louder.

Hermione shook and knew that this boy would never grow up to become the man she had once known. She never really knew what had changed, but perhaps it was because of her _presence_ that kept Peter from spiralling down that evil, selfish path he would embark on in the future.

So before they left home, Hermione defiantly glared down at her father's grave through her tears, vowing to all the stars and the moon and everything that could hear her, that she would never let Peter Pettigrew stray away from the right path.

* * *

**August 15, 1971**

Hermione knew she was rudely staring, but she couldn't bring herself to look away from Albus Dumbledore. After all, the last time she'd seen him was when he was staring lifelessly heavenward.

A few days before the Headmaster's visit, the Pettigrew household had been flooded with Hogwarts letters from different kinds of Owls. Peter had resolutely refused to open any of them, reasoning out that he didn't deserve to go to Hogwarts, and no amount of insistence from both his mother and sister made him relent.

Peter had changed ever since their father's death. He still steadfastly blamed himself for the accidental murder he'd done and was convinced he was evil forevermore. Anya was getting distressed over Peter's change of attitude, and even her warmth and hug couldn't pull him away from the sudden darkness Peter surrounded himself with.

Knowing there was no other choice, Hermione sneaked inside her mother's room and penned a letter addressed to the Headmaster, saying that her brother didn't want to go to Hogwarts and begged him to convince him otherwise. Hermione didn't really expect a response too soon, seeing that the new school term was about to begin. So, it had surprised her greatly when the Headmaster himself came knocking on their door the very next day, claiming that one Hermione Pettigrew had written to him.

Peter looked betrayed, but Hermione reasoned out he needed to go to Hogwarts to control his magic. He hadn't budged ever since, petulantly sitting across from Dumbledore with his arms crossed against his chest.

"How do you like your tea, Headmaster?" her mother kindly asked.

"A dash of milk and one cube of sugar, Anastasia," the less wrinkly wizard claimed.

Her eyes gleamed in amusement. "It's been a long time since I've been addressed as such," she said with a laugh.

"It is your name, isn't it?" Dumbledore asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Oh, yes, of course," Anya replied, "but after being disinherited by my family, I think we should drop the pretentious name, yes?"

"Anastasia is a beautiful name, Mum," Hermione blurted out before she could stop herself.

Both the older witch and wizard glanced down at the young brunette. "Thank you, love, that's very sweet," Anya said, placing a few more marshmallows on top of her warm cocoa to show her gratitude.

Hermione blushed and glanced down at her hands, uncomfortable at the scrutinising gaze of the Headmaster. It was still disconcerting seeing him very much alive, with an untainted hand and fewer wrinkles on his face. His hair was still wiry and white, but there were hints of auburn hair at the roots.

"Now, I believe I have some convincing to do?" Dumbledore said, kindly smiling at the petulant boy. "Tell me, Peter, aren't you excited to go to Hogwarts?"

Hermione glanced over her brother and watched as he stiffened at Dumbledore's question. Peter had been gushing over going to Hogwarts for _years_ ; excited seemed a terrible understatement.

"I don't think I will belong there, Headmaster, sir," Peter then quietly answered, his face turning splotchy red at Dumbledore's questioning gaze.

"It isn't a matter of belonging, young man," he insisted. "I asked if you are _excited_ to go."

Even his words commanded respect. If Hermione or Anya had asked him that very same question, Peter would have surely thrown a tantrum. But nobody dared throw a tantrum in front of Dumbledore – well, maybe Harry Potter was the delightful exception.

"I-I…" Peter's cheeks darkened as he miserably glanced at his hands. "I really want to go to Hogwarts."

Anya expelled a deep sigh and slid lower beside Hermione on their couch. "Then, you should really go, Peter," she urged.

His eyes turned steely as he stubbornly refused to look at the other three. "I can hurt other people there, too," he pointed out.

"And why do you say that?" Dumbledore calmly asked despite the sudden drop of temperature in the room.

"I can do things that hurt people!" Peter exclaimed, suddenly angry himself. Tears were threatening to pour out from his eyes and Hermione was tempted to reach over and comfort her brother. But she kept herself in place and held her mother's hand instead.

The old wizard kindly smiled at the distressed boy. "And you can also do things to help them," he gently answered. He waited as Peter deflated and slumped down on his seat. "Accidental magic is common in young children like your age. I am sure your sister here has had numerous bouts of using accidental magic before."

Hermione vigorously nodded her head, if only to appease Peter's troubled heart.

"If you come to Hogwarts, Peter," Dumbledore continued, "we can teach you how to use magic to protect those you love very much."

Peter hesitantly glanced over at his mother and sister. "But I can hurt them too," he softly replied.

"Then, you simply do your very best to learn more protective spells," the Headmaster continued. "I have taught a lot of boys like you before, Peter. I've taught children who had unwillingly hurt their loved ones because of some accidental magic. But I've seen how they steadfastly learned all the spells and turned to be good people – _great_ people in fact. Magic isn't good or evil, per se. It is but a tool and it is up to the user how he or she would wield it."

Peter's eyes had widened at these words and Hermione had to bite back a sigh of relief, knowing that Dumbledore's words were starting to sway him.

"If you want to protect your mother and sister, Hogwarts can teach you more spells on how to do that."

The young boy clasped his hands together and grew sombre. The tears were long dispelled as he mulled over what he was being told.

Then, with considerable conviction, he stared the greatest wizard of the age right into his very eyes, and said, "Okay."

"Okay?" Dumbledore asked with an indulgent smile.

Peter resolutely nodded his head. "Okay," he said. "Okay, I'll go to Hogwarts."

* * *

**September 2, 1971**

It was terribly lonely now that Peter had gone to Hogwarts, but Hermione was glad he decided to go in the end.

The house was quieter now that Timothy wasn't there to wreak havoc. Anya was obviously saddened with Peter's new journey in life but tried her very hardest to hide it. Hermione had resolutely held her mother's hand after they went home from King's Cross and only let go when Anya pulled away from her hand first.

Without their father, Anya was forced to look for a job to sustain them both. Dumbledore was generous enough to put Peter on scholarship for the first year and would continue doing so until Anya found a stable job. Her mother was now working as a secretary for their small town's mayor. Hermione was therefore left to her own devices for the rest of the day, after reassuring Anya that she could very much take care of herself.

During her alone times, Hermione would roam around her house, discovering different nooks and crannies she hadn't seen before. She sometimes looked through the different pictures Anya had taken of their family through the years, smiling at the funny faces she and Peter pulled. It still felt quite surreal to be born as Peter Pettigrew's sister in this different universe, but Hermione would be lying if she'd said this wasn't home.

Sometimes, she would read her books in her room and daydream about being whisked away into another reality. One thing she understood about this world was it wasn't that different from the world she belonged to before. Ever since Timothy had died, her mother started subscribing to the Daily Prophet. Hermione would read through the news, remembering all the history lessons Professor Binns droned on and on about in their History of Magic Class and was surprised by how very little things had changed.

Hermione tried to theorise countless times what the real effect of the potion she had taken had done to her. She arrived at six conclusions:

1\. She was still in the same world, with the same set of people and events.  
2\. Her identity was the only curious thing that had changed.  
3\. The potion's sole purpose was to give only the drinker a different life.  
4\. She was _Avada'd_ at the same time she drank the potion.  
5\. Hermione was _dead_ in that timeline and should not attempt to return.  
6\. She didn't know if Hermione Granger will still be born now that she exists.

She didn't have any useful books at her disposal to research more, but that was basically what she understood. Since she was technically born in this time, it meant that she _belonged_. Hermione had no idea if whatever she'd done would change the course of events that had happened in her past life. Peter Pettigrew now had a sister after all, and she'd be damned if she allowed him to stray away from the right path and betray his best friends in the future.

These conclusions had weighed heavily on Hermione's shoulders. With complete knowledge of a different future, Hermione knew she could change the course of events if she wanted to.

" _Live a happy life, Hermione,"_ were Harry's last words to her before everything had changed. She had kept his words close to her heart. The real reason why they had wanted to use the potion in the first place, was to escape their tiring life, after all. If she were to live a brilliant, happy life, Hermione knew she had no other choice but to keep her head down and watch from the side-lines. She vowed to only meddle if it felt right, but besides that, she would do whatever she could so that she wouldn't be placed under Voldemort's radar.

Her thoughts were halted when a soft tapping from her bedroom window rang in her room. She smiled at Toffee, the family's beautiful tawny owl, with Peter's letter tied on one of her legs. Hermione had jokingly named her as such when Peter asked for suggestions, and it had just stuck. Now, the owl wouldn't respond to any name other than 'Toffee'.

"Hello," she cooed when Toffee landed on her desk and stuck out her leg. Hermione untied the letter from her leg and absentmindedly fed her with treats as she unrolled Peter's letter.

Her eyes skimmed through the letter, eyes widening a bit when she read that Peter had been placed in Gryffindor, although he had almost become a Slytherin. In the end, he was Sorted into Gryffindor of course, and had been ecstatic about it ever since. He swore to her the Sorting was fun, but they were forbidden to tell how it would happen to those who still hadn't attended Hogwarts. He then spoke about his excitement at starting to use his wand in class and voiced out his fear that he might lag behind because everybody was brilliant.

Her heart froze when she read the names of his newfound friends. He spoke of Remus Lupin – the cleverest of them all, with weird scars on his face and who always weirdly smelled of chocolate. He spoke of Sirius Black – the boisterous Black heir of a prestigious Pureblood family, and how he had loudly celebrated at being Sorted in Gryffindor rather than Slytherin. And he spoke of James Potter – another equally boisterous Pureblood heir of the Potter family, and how he envied how confident he was.

Peter spoke about how he felt almost left out of their small band of friends since he wasn't really good at anything, but the other boys seemed intent to keep him involved anyway.

Hermione's eyes filled with tears as she brushed over the names of the people she once knew. She remembered how Harry's tear-filled eyes grieved over the death of his godfather. She remembered how Teddy Lupin wailed like there was no tomorrow, newly orphaned after the conclusion of the Battle at Hogwarts.

And when she glanced over at James Potter's name, Hermione remembered her Harry – her brave but tired Harry – and how he was robbed from a beautiful childhood that should have been filled with love and warmth.

As she collapsed on her bed, Peter's letter now limp in her hand, Hermione wondered how she could just watch from the side-lines when she knew she could prevent their deaths.


	4. chapter three

* * *

**iii.**

_**it seems they have been chosen** _

(Say by Sleeping at Last)

* * *

**August 5, 1972**

"Peter, knock it out," Hermione grumbled, noting with dismay that her brother perked up every time a noise that resembled tapping reached their ears.

"Why aren't you excited?" he shot back with a frown. "You're going to Hogwarts soon!"

"You weren't this excited last year," she murmured under her breath. Peter's face turned splotchy red and he scowled upon hearing her words.

Anya sauntered into their cozy kitchen, eyebrows raised upon noticing the glaring contest between her children. "What happened and who started it this time?" she asked with an exhausted sigh, placing the steaming plate of fried chicken in front of them at the table.

Peter's glare wavered, thoroughly distracted by the food, but he was able to say, "Hermione's being a berk."

"Peter! Language!" Anya hissed, now glaring down at her sheepish son. "Where did you learn that?"

Hermione snorted and helped herself to a large spoonful of mashed potato. "I'm sure it's from his friends, Mum," she pointed out. "They've been a bad influence on Petey here."

"No they haven't!" he retorted with frown.

The brunette quirked an eyebrow in his direction. "Professor McGonagall's letter of disappointment begged to differ," she quipped in return.

"That was just _one_ time, seriously," Peter grumbled into his food, his cheeks now a darker shade of red.

Hermione secretly smiled, remembering the letter from the furious Head of Gryffindor House about her disappointment at the numerous pranks Peter and his friends had pulled throughout their first year, just for the fun of it. McGonagall also pointed out that Peter had gone through numerous detentions and lost a lot of points for their House because he'd been tagging along with Sirius, James, and Remus. Anya was surprisingly more amused than enraged, having worried herself sick over Peter's situation in Hogwarts after what had happened the earlier that year. It placed her heart at ease that he had at least made friends with harmless, albeit rowdy, boys.

When loud tapping from their kitchen window caught their attention, Peter flinched and glared when Hermione snickered under her breath. But when the tapping persisted, Hermione's eyes widened and she glanced at the kitchen window. A handsome barn owl was patiently waiting, clutching what was obviously two Hogwarts letters in his beak.

"I'll get it!" Peter exclaimed, racing down from his chair towards the window. He pushed it open and the owl entered, landing gracefully beside Hermione's plate. While Peter brushed his feathers, Hermione caught the letters and fed the owl some treats, before he flew away once more.

Hermione passed Peter his own letter while she dumbly stared at her own— _'Hermione Pettigrew'_ scrawled across the envelope. Although she had been through this once before, she still couldn't deny the giddiness she felt at being invited to Hogwarts to study.

"What are you waiting for?" Peter urged, his unopened letter still clutched in his hand. "Open it!"

"Honestly," Hermione said, laughing in spite of herself. "We all know what it says anyway."

But she opened it nonetheless, her smile growing wider as she read through the words Professor McGonagall had written on her Hogwarts acceptance letter.

"Congratulations, love," Anya said, leaning over to affectionately pat Hermione's hand.

"I don't want to leave you alone, Mum," Hermione honestly replied, catching her mother's hand and giving it a tight squeeze.

Anya rolled her eyes. "If you stubbornly refuse to go, _I'm_ going to be tempted to write to Dumbledore this time," she warned, prompting Peter to turn red in the face and for Hermione to burst into giggles.

"I hope you get Sorted into Gryffindor," Peter said, distractedly reading his own letter for his second-year essentials.

"I think Hermione will be a Ravenclaw," Anya claimed.

Peter paused and frowned, glancing down at his sister. "Well, that is highly likely too," he said. "Since you're a terrible swot."

"Hey!" Hermione claimed, but Peter merely gave her a lazy grin.

"We can all go to Diagon Alley tomorrow," Anya said. "Sound good?"

Identical sounds of agreement escaped from the siblings.

"All right," their mother said. "Now finish up your lunch so that you can start with your chores."

Peter exclaimed a loud groan, earning him a reproachful look from his mother. "I'm not going to wash the dishes," he warned.

Hermione sighed, extended her upturned palm, and bent her fingers to motion a silent 'gimme' at his direction. Peter rolled his eyes and fished a bunch of toffees from his pocket. "Bribery," he hissed.

She smirked and merely shrugged her shoulders.

* * *

**August 6, 1972**

Since they were living in a Muggle part of London, the Pettigrew's had to ride the London Underground in order to reach Charing Cross Road.

Peter was bustling with energy and had been excitedly chattering about all the brilliant things in Diagon Alley. Hermione had opted to skip coming with Peter when Anya brought him to Diagon Alley last year, using the excuse that she was feeling under the weather. In truth, she wasn't ready to face the place which she had once feared going to, having witnessed numerous attacks and battles—numerous _deaths_. She knew it was inevitable now, and to conceal her nervousness, she indulged Peter by answering his giddy questions at the right time.

When they stopped in front of an inn crammed between a delightful bookshop and an old record shop, Hermione couldn't stop herself from gawking at the Leaky Cauldron. In her past life, the whole pub had been thrashed down until it was unrecognisable, as the Death Eaters had realised members of the Resistance oftentimes gathered there to convene their secret meetings. Also, since it was usually the way for Muggleborns living in the Muggle world to enter the Wizarding World, they made sure such access was restricted to keep them away from entering.

Hermione swallowed down her rising bile when they stepped inside the pub. It was brimming with people, raucous laughter echoing at a table as one drunk wizard started to climb up and do a funny dance. She half-expected the loud alarms installed by the Death Eaters to start ringing shrilly, but then caught herself and shook her head to keep those dark thoughts away.

"Are you all right, Hermione?" Anya worriedly asked, comfortingly clutching her elbow.

"I'm just a bit overwhelmed," she lied with a tight smile.

"It's wicked, isn't it?" Peter gushed out, beaming widely at the chaos that was happening inside.

Anya brought them towards the brick wall separating the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley. She pulled out her wand and started tapping the right bricks, waiting for the wall to rearrange and reveal a passageway. Hermione almost backpedalled at how the whole alley was bustling with life.

Peter, mistaking her frozen demeanour for awe, grinned and held her hand. "Welcome to Diagon Alley, Hermione Pettigrew," he said.

"Hold on tight, sweetheart," Anya warned, grabbing onto her other hand. "This is your first time coming here so you can easily get lost."

"Where to first, Mum?" Peter asked, craning his neck up to look at their mother.

"Gringotts first," she said. "I have to make a withdrawal."

Hermione paled at Anya's answer and mechanically walked with her family until they finally reached Gringotts. She kept close to her mother throughout the whole ordeal, trying to make herself invisible lest a goblin recognised her as the woman who had managed to break through Gringotts' wards, steal a precious artifact from one of the highly guarded vaults, and get out unscathed.

"Why are you so jittery today?" Peter asked, amused.

"Shh," Hermione harshly exclaimed under her breath, noticing how one goblin curiously looked in her direction.

Peter's eyes widened as realisation dawned. "Are you scared of the goblins?" he asked, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Her cheeks reddened and she petulantly glared at her brother. "No, I'm not," she retorted back. "Shut up, Peter."

He snickered under his breath but blessedly kept quiet.

Hermione silently berated herself at how ridiculous she was being. She hadn't been a thief in this time, after all. Although goblins were bright, _clever_ creatures, she knew they could never predict a future heist by merely looking at the potential thief.

She had marginally calmed down after this thought, but still stayed silent as she trailed behind her mother. She only breathed a little better once they were able to walk out of Gringotts safely without a band of angry goblins stampeding towards them.

"We should really go to Florean's," Peter insisted, a hopeful glint in his eyes. "James said they sell the most ridiculous flavours and I would love to try them."

"Later," Anya firmly said. Peter deflated slightly, so their mother quickly added, "We need to buy a lot of things for Hermione first."

"All right," he answered with a soft sigh.

Anya next brought her children to Madam Malkin's. While Hermione's measurements were taken, she watched in amusement how Anya and Peter argued over buying the boy a new set of robes.

"Mum, I didn't grow _that_ tall," Peter exclaimed. "My robes still perfectly fit me."

"But the hems are above your ankles," the older witch reasoned out. "Boys your age will shoot up in no time so we just have to prepare."

Peter threw an exasperated glance at Hermione. "A little help here, please," he called out.

Hermione laughed and stepped down the small dais, thanked the kind witch who got her measurements, and walked towards her mother. "We can do that next year, Mum, if the hems of his robes are now hanging below his knee," she offered.

Anya sighed and agreed in the end.

They waited for a few more minutes before their robes were given and they left for another shop.

They went to Flourish and Blotts, and Peter had sent her a teasing grin, knowing that this was the place she was most excited to visit. Hermione's eyes had grown wide, noting the towering bookshelves decorated around the quaint bookshop. She almost felt teary eyed, remembering how her precious books were ransacked by the Death Eaters when they caught the owners as supporters of the Light.

"Go grab the books you need, Peter," Anya told her son. "I'll help Hermione get her school supplies."

Peter nodded his head and bounded away. Hermione held Anya's hand and followed her mother. As the younger sibling of a wizard, obviously Hermione would inherit Peter's books. She didn't mind the hand-me-downs and appreciated that although Peter wasn't a rigorous student, he at least kept his books neat.

Anya grabbed rolls and rolls of parchments, bought pieces of quills and inkwells, and other supplies she deemed would be useful for Hermione. The young brunette pleaded to buy at least one book, and Anya thankfully relented, knowing how her daughter was a notorious bookworm.

They met Peter at the counter, a pile of thick tomes teetering on his shaking hands. Anya laughed and pulled out her wand, unburdening her son.

"Thanks, Mum," he sheepishly smiled.

Hermione grinned at her mother, feeling inexplicably happy every time she pulled out her wand and did some simple magic. After their father died, Anya had been using magic more frequently these days and Hermione had never seen her mother happier.

Her mother then paid for the purchases and the small family went back onto the streets of Diagon Alley.

**-ooo-**

They bought more supplies for Hermione, such as cauldrons and scales, and other standard first year equipment, before Anya declared it was time for Hermione to buy her very own wand.

This was the moment Hermione had been fearing ever since Anya told them they would be going to Diagon Alley. Although she was excited she was going to get a wand, she feared it wouldn't be her _old_ wand. When she woke up in this world without her wand, she felt like a part of her limb had been taken away from her. Hermione knew she would feel greatly disappointed if she didn't get the magical stick she had dearly loved.

A small bell tinkled above the door when they entered Ollivander's. Thankfully, the shop was devoid of other aspiring first year students, so the family were able to quickly walk towards the counter.

Hermione gazed around, unable to see the famous wandmaker, while Anya rang the bell on the counter. The family comically flinched when Ollivander finally slid into their sights, perched almost precariously on his rickety ladder.

"Ah, welcome, welcome," he jovially greeted, climbing down and walking towards the counter. His eyes slightly widened upon seeing their mother. "Anastasia Selwyn. Elm and dragon heartstring. Twelve inches. Very swishy and flexible."

"Anya Pettigrew, please," Anya corrected, giving him a tight smile. "But quite right, Mr. Ollivander."

The wandmaker ignored her words as his eyes then swept down at Peter, who was widely staring at him with unabashed awe.

"You really do remember all the wands you've sold," he quipped. He blushed when Ollivander chuckled under his breath.

"An Ollivander never forgets the wands he sold," the wandmaker replied. "And you, young Pettigrew. Cedar and unicorn hair. Thirteen and a half inches. A little rigid, but supple."

Peter vigorously nodded his head, his eyes growing wider.

His gaze finally landed on Hermione and his smile grew. "Ah, what do we have here? A new student?"

She stiffly nodded her head for her reply.

Ollivander pulled his very own wand and swished it in the air. Instantly, measuring tapes appeared and started getting Hermione's measurements.

"Now, Miss Pettigrew," he started, "we have a different array of wands and cores, but you must note that no two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, and phoenixes are quite the same."

When he swished his wand again, the measuring tape disappeared. He sauntered towards the closest box and eyed it with keen eyes. "Hmm… cypress and unicorn hair. Ten and a half inches. Quite springy." He thrusted the wand towards Hermione. "Go on, go on. Give it a little wave."

Hermione eyed the wand with distrust. Even before she touched it, she knew they wouldn't be well-acquainted. She recalled using Bellatrix's wand when her beloved wand was snatched from her, and grew sick in the stomach. She didn't want to experience that ever again.

"I want—" She started, hesitant in voicing out her desires. But when Ollivander frowned and lowered the wand he was clutching, Hermione cleared her throat and stood a tad taller. "I think, I'd like to try vine wood with a dragon heartstring core. Ten and three-fourths inches long."

Both Anya and Peter gawked at her in surprise.

"Please," Hermione quickly squeaked under her breath, wondering if what she'd done was the right thing.

"That's awfully specific," Peter said, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

Hermione cleared her throat once again and hid her trepidation. "I did some reading before coming here, you see. I think vine wood with a dragon heartstring core would suit me. And as for the measurements… _well_ , I hazarded a guess when your magical tape started taking my measurements."

Anya and Peter seemed to accept her explanation. "Even with choosing a wand you can really be a know-it-all," Peter teased, earning him a glare from his sister.

But Ollivander seemed very suspicious. He had grown silent after Hermione's demand, and had been observing her quietly for a few seconds.

Feeling a little uncomfortable with his gaze, Hermione cleared her throat for the third time and asked, "Well?"

"A wand chooses the wielder, Miss Pettigrew," he said, the tone of his voice now curiously devoid of his initial joviality. "Not the other way around."

"Please," she insisted. "Just let me try it."

When a deep frown graced Ollivander's face, Hermione internally sighed.

She just really missed her wand.

"As an honest suggestion from me, Mr. Ollivander," Peter suddenly quipped. "I think you should really just follow her request. Mighty stubborn, this one is—OW, HERMIONE!"

"Shut it," she hissed under her breath, glaring at her brother who was now rubbing his sore ribs.

Anya shushed her children then sheepishly smiled the wandmaker. "I apologise, Mr. Ollivander," she said, "but we really need to go."

His eyes never left Hermione, but he finally sighed. "Very well," he stonily replied. "I'll be right back."

He wasn't gone for a minute. When he came back, Hermione's breath hitched at the familiar green box that had once housed her beloved wand. She had to bite her tongue hard to stop herself from crying in relief when he finally opened the box and showed her the exact replica of her own past wand.

He offered the stick to her. "Go on. Give it a try," he said hesitantly.

The moment she touched the textured handle of the vine wood, instant warmth spread through her fingertips. The magic inside her hummed pleasurably upon being reacquainted with an old friend, and it didn't surprise her when red and gold sparks shot out from her wand like fireworks.

Peter clapped at the display, grinning widely at Hermione. Anya placed a hand on top of Hermione's shoulder, a proud grin on her face.

"Hmm… curiously you were right," Ollivander claimed, closing the green box and moving it away. "I've sold a thousand wands in my life, Miss Pettigrew, and this is the first time a witch was able to correctly choose her wand."

Hermione gave him a shaky grin, hugging her wand close to her chest. "I'm a know-it-all, remember?" she joked.

Ollivander's brows knitted at the middle, trying to decipher Hermione like she was a difficult puzzle. But then, he finally gave up and gave her a hesitant smile.

"I wish you many happy years in Hogwarts, Miss Pettigrew," he answered instead.

**-ooo-**

"No one's going to snatch your wand, Hermione," Peter teased when he slid inside the booth across from the brunette.

"You can't be too careful," she murmured under her breath, finally, yet reluctantly, sliding her wand inside her sleeve. She eyed the colourful ice cream in front of her brother and didn't bother asking him what flavour he had gotten. Instead, she looked around the ice cream shop and frowned. "Where's Mum?"

Peter shrugged. "She said she needed to buy something else," he answered. "We can go ahead and eat our ice creams."

Hermione nodded and ate her ice cream – a normal toffee flavoured one – and savoured how the creamy dessert melted on her tongue.

"I really wish you'd be Sorted into Gryffindor," Peter then quipped. "We'll have so much fun."

She wondered if the Sorting Hat would allow her to choose. Although she'd always be a Gryffindor through and through, the thought of staying inside their cozy common room and sleeping in the dormitories without her own _friends_ didn't sit well with Hermione.

"Maybe I'll be a Ravenclaw," she casually replied. "You know, so no one will judge me for being a _swot_."

Peter grinned. "I bet you'll be at the top of your year," he said.

She lifted her chin a little higher. "Is that a challenge, Peter?" she snootily asked.

His eyes gleamed, leaning forward to meet her in the eye. "What are the stakes?"

"A yearlong supply of toffee if I win," she said without any hesitation.

"Figures you'd say that," Peter snorted. "Fine. Deal. But if you lose?"

Hermione smirked. "Oh, I think I will win," she confidently replied.

Peter guffawed and waved his spoon in her direction. " _Maybe_ you'll be well suited in Slytherin instead, you berk," he laughed.

She was about to retort, when Peter suddenly shot up from his seat. A huge smile broke out on his face as he immediately clambered out of the booth.

"HEY!" he exclaimed. He was greeted with a chorus of 'Hellos' and curious, Hermione peeked from the booth she was sitting in. Three other boys were raucously shoving Peter's shoulders, already excitedly talking with her brother. The boy with a mildly scarred face smiled kindly at Peter, asking him about his vacation. The one with shaggy black hair was playfully messing with Peter's sandy hair. And lastly, the boy with impossibly dishevelled hair with elegant, thin-framed glasses perched on top of his nose was wildly gesticulating with his hands, perhaps enumerating his adventurous summer.

Hermione's breath hitched when the four boys looked over at her. Peter's cheeks reddened in embarrassment while the other three stared at her curiously.

Suddenly embarrassed herself, Hermione hid behind the booth once again and prayed to Merlin they wouldn't come over.

But then, when several sets of footsteps grew closer, Hermione's heart thudded in panic. She desperately tried to calm herself down, told herself repeatedly that she wouldn't show how much their presence had affected her.

Hermione suddenly stilled when a bespectacled boy slid down beside her. Peter sat on the seat across from her, a sheepish smile on his face. The scarred boy sat down beside Peter. And the boy with the shaggy hair chose to stand instead, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he stared down at Hermione.

"So…" the boy beside her started, "you are the infamous Hermione Pettigrew."

She stiffly stared at her brother instead, refusing to glance at the boy that looked exactly like her Harry. "I'm not infamous for anything," she murmured.

The shaggy haired boy – _Sirius_ – burst into raucous laughter. He leaned down on the table and placed his chin on top of his hands. "Excited to go to Hogwarts, kitten?" he asked.

Hermione scrunched her nose, remembering the older Sirius' horrible nickname for her. She briefly threw him a scathing glare and stared at her brother again. "Don't call me that," she spat. "I have a name."

Instead of getting offended, Sirius' eyes glinted brighter under the cozy lights of Florean's.

"What's gotten her knickers in a twist?" the boy beside her – _James_ – asked, jutting a thumb in her direction.

"She's just mighty nervous, that's all," Peter explained, giving her a small smile.

"There's nothing to be nervous about attending Hogwarts, _kitten_ ," Sirius said, ignoring how she bristled on her seat. "The Sorting can be exhausting and _terrifying_ , but once you get through that alive, then you're all good."

James started snickering under his breath while the scarred boy – _Remus_ – groaned. "You don't need to scare her, Sirius," he reprimanded. He gave her a small, kind smile and Hermione's eyes slightly watered, remembering her favourite Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. "The Sorting's not that terrible, Hermione. Trust me. It'll be done in a minute."

"Mine wasn't," Peter reminded with a wide smile.

"Can't believe you almost got Sorted into Slytherin," James said with a wrinkled nose. "Those bunch of snakes are _evil_ , I tell you."

Sirius reverently nodded his head. "I'm so glad I got free from the Black family curse," he said with a dramatic sigh.

"Which is?" Remus asked with knitted eyebrows.

"Why, getting Sorted into Slytherin, of course!" Sirius cried. "Imagine sleeping in a _dungeon_ for seven years." He made a face and shivered in disgust.

James snorted. "Funny," he started, "I thought the 'Black family curse' was when members of the family started to go mental as they aged." He grinned widely when he dodged Sirius' punch. "Mental, that's definitely you."

"Shut up, wanker," Sirius said, sticking out his tongue petulantly.

"Language," Hermione suddenly admonished with a frown.

The Black heir looked at her in surprise. "You're not my Mother," he shot back.

She sighed and looked away, once again comforting herself by staring at Peter instead.

"But seriously, though," James said, addressing Hermione again. "I hope you won't get Sorted into Slytherin. Peter talks about you _all_ the time and we'd hate it if his sister got Sorted with the snakes. They're _evil_."

"You really shouldn't generalise people because of their House," she berated, glaring at him out of the corner of her eyes.

James frowned. "What?" he asked. "I'm _not_. I'm merely stating facts."

" _Baseless_ facts," she corrected. "Slytherins are not all evil. _Hogwarts: A History_ spoke about how cunning they can be, and it would be mighty helpful when planning for a raid once they become Aurors. Hufflepuffs can be brave and intelligent. And Ravenclaws can hurt other people if they want with their brains."

She was suddenly haunted by all the people she had encountered in the battlefield, lines blurred and House colors unimportant. She had long learnt that such generalisations always led to heartache and betrayals.

Her eyes unwittingly glanced at her brother once more, remembering how a _Gryffindor_ had betrayed his friends in the end.

"Or… or you know, how not all Gryffindors grow up to be brave." She finished her speech in a small whisper, glancing at her hands and trying to keep her emotions intact.

"What?!" the boys collectively thundered.

Hermione blinked, surprised with their outburst. She lifted her head and looked at each of their faces, noting the thunderous expressions painted on their splotchy red faces. Even Peter was looking at her with a disapproving frown. "What?" she echoed, confused.

"Gryffindors are _brave_!" James interjected. "How can you say that?"

"Not all," she insisted, annoyed.

" _Yes,_ all," James replied.

Hermione had to stop herself from hitting her forehead with her palm. These boys were still so blinded by their Houses and the rigid delineation of what was good or bad, of what was light or dark, it was almost saddening. If Hogwarts had taught them about how the real world was a wonderful spectrum of different, various shades of grey, then the war might not have dragged out as long.

Hermione expelled an exhausted sigh and slumped down in her seat. She knew arguing with these bright-eyed boys would be futile, anyway. "Never mind," she quietly murmured. "Believe whatever you want."

"Your sister's weird, Petey," Sirius pointed out with a frown. "She definitely won't be Sorted into Gryffindor."

In spite of herself, she snorted. "Woe is me," she dryly replied.

She saw how this made Remus laugh. "Definitely a Ravenclaw," he said with a resolute nod. "You dolts won't be able to handle that big brain of hers."

James, who had now marginally calmed down, threw a bemused glance at Peter. "You didn't tell us your sister's _annoying_ ," he joked.

Peter grinned. "A bloody know-it-all, too, if you ask me," he laughed.

Hermione, slightly affronted, scooped up her melting ice cream with her spoon and made a makeshift catapult with her finger. She flung the ice cream towards her brother, which landed squarely on his forehead.

Sirius released a low whistle while James and Remus exploded into boisterous laughter. "Nice shot, kitten," the Black heir said with a wide grin.

Peter's face steadily turned red as he tried to retaliate, scooping up a handful of his own melting ice cream and hurtling it towards his sister. Hermione laughed and dodged. The ice cream landed on James's shoulder, prompting him to yelp in surprise. He snatched Hermione's spoon and flung more of the dessert towards Peter.

Suffice to say, when Anya came back to collect her children, she was surprised by the scene that greeted her.

"What happened here?" she gasped, glancing at the massacred creamy dessert clinging to various parts of their hair and clothes.

"Hi, Mum," Hermione and Peter sheepishly said.

"Good day, Mrs. Pettigrew," Sirius said with a ridiculous bow and a charming grin. He looked extra ridiculous because most of his right cheek was covered in ice cream. "It's been a while."

Anya started reprimanding the rowdy children, lecturing them about respecting their food, and by the time all the children were clean, they were properly shamefaced.

When the other three boys bid their goodbyes, promising Peter to save him a seat on the Hogwarts Express, Anya reckoned it was time for them to go home.

"Your friends are so annoying," Hermione complained when she clung at Anya's hand.

Peter gave her a cheeky grin. "I think they like you," he shot back, clutching Hermione's other free hand.

Hermione rolled her eyes, murmured under her breath how she thought that wasn't a compliment. She promised herself she would keep as far away from the Marauder's radar as possible. They were too involved in the war after all, and _well_ , that was not what Hermione wanted in the first place.

When they finally got home, before Hermione could deposit her new things in her bedroom, Anya stopped her.

"I bought you a congratulatory gift, Hermione," Anya said with a sad smile. "Now that my daughter is going to start her education soon, I thought it was fitting to give you a farewell gift."

Hermione threw a glance at Peter, who merely shrugged in return.

Anya then pulled out an aged copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ that almost made her eyes bulge out from their sockets.

"A first edition?" she gasped, reverently cradling the book in her hands. "But… but Mum, this is so expensive."

Her mother kindly smiled down at her and brushed a loose curl away. "Never mind the price, love," she tenderly replied. "After seeing your expression, I knew buying it was the right thing to do."

Tears swam in Hermione's vision as she threw her arms around her. "I love you, Mum," she whispered earnestly.

Anya smiled and dropped a kiss on the crown of her head. "I love you too, sweetheart," she replied. "I know you are going to make me really proud."

"Can I join in the hug too?" Peter hopefully asked, a large grin on his face.

Hermione chuckled and pulled him close. She was then sandwiched between the two people she had cared for the most in this world and Hermione hadn't felt this happy in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've finally introduced the Marauders and I hope I gave justice to their characters hahaha. James was mighty difficult to write so I don't really understand why I'm obsessed with him and subsequently wanted to pair him with Hermione in this story. I'm purposively complicating my life smh. Also, James/Hermione are endgame, I promise, but I did say it'll be a slow burn so... :)
> 
> Next chapter is Hermione's first year at Hogwarts! Oh, and I introduce Lily and Snape.
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr! (kimmy-writes)


	5. chapter four

* * *

**iv.  
**

_**and so here we go bluebird** _

(Bluebird by Sara Bareilles)

* * *

**September 1, 1972**

Hermione smiled sadly at her mother who was trying her very best not to cry. Anya had been fussing over Peter for ages now, mothering him about the importance of studying and avoiding detentions. Peter's face had been red ever since they had gone through the barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten and had been loudly complaining to Anya that he knew how to properly take care of himself.

"Why can't you nag Hermione instead?" he whined, shying away from her hands as she tried to tame his hair.

Anya darkly glared at her firstborn. "I'm not worried for Hermione," she explained. "Your sister's proven to be quite responsible and bright. I'm sure she's not the one who's going to give me a headache this year, young man."

Peter glanced over at Hermione with a pleading look on his face. Deciding that her poor brother had had enough, she sauntered towards Anya and wrapped her arms around her tiny waist. This stopped her fussing all together, and their mother finally let her tears fall.

The older witch wrapped her arms around Hermione's shoulders and sagged against her. "I'm going to miss you both so much," she sniffed. "Home will not be the same without you."

Her brother looked uncomfortable with their mother's display of emotions, but was sensitive enough to pat her on her back for comfort.

Anya sniffed and chuckled, haphazardly wiping her tears away, before pulling completely from Hermione's hug. "You're going to make me proud, I'm sure of it," she declared with a shaky smile on her face. She glanced at Peter and lightly glared. "Yes, even you, Peter. So be sure to study diligently and stay away from pranking, all right?"

"I'm sure that's not going to happen," Hermione said with a teasing grin.

Peter rolled his eyes. "Hermione will be there with me, Mum. She'll do the nagging for you," he shot back.

Anya sighed and pinched his cheek. "Insolent boy," she replied tenderly.

She shooed them away when the train whistle filled the bustling train station. "I love you both," she exclaimed once both Hermione and Peter were on the train. As the train departed, they wildly waved their hands in goodbye until they weren't able to see Anya anymore.

"I'm going to find James and the others," Peter said for his goodbye. But then, he paused and reluctantly looked back at Hermione. " _Well_ … if you want to come…"

"And spend my first time riding the Hogwarts train with a bunch of smelly boys?" Hermione said, cutting him off. She wrinkled her nose. "No thanks."

Peter rolled his eyes. "We're not smelly," he insisted.

"Your laundry basket begs to differ, though."

He pinched her side with an incredulous smile. "Berk," he said. He grasped the handle of his trunk and looked thoughtful for a moment. "If you ever need anything, Hermione. _Anything_. Don't hesitate to come to me for help, yeah?"

"I'll keep that in mind, Petey," she said with a brilliant smile.

He bid his goodbye and went away to search for his friends.

Now that Hermione was alone, she felt a tad nervous as she tried to search for an empty compartment. Unfamiliar faces greeted her eyes, and she was too uncomfortable to share a carriage ride with people she didn't know. Hermione was intent on finding an empty compartment and was only able to find one when she'd reached a compartment at the back of the train.

She pulled her trunk inside and sat on one of the benches.

For a moment, Hermione blinked into space, at a loss of what to do. It felt terribly surreal to be going back to Hogwarts – for the _first_ time, so to speak. The last time she'd ridden the Hogwarts Express was when they left for summer after sixth year, entirely knowing it would be their last ride before they ventured out to search for the horcruxes. It still saddened Hermione that she wasn't able to attend their seventh year, to become a Head Girl, and to graduate at the top of her class. But then, at that time, thinking about grades and prestigious positions were silly when they had a bigger problem to address.

Now that she had a chance for a do-over, Hermione promised herself she would solely focus on studying. She wouldn't hang out with ridiculous boys with equally ridiculous thirsts for ridiculous adventures.

Resolute, she opened her trunk and pulled out her copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ and started to quietly read.

Her moment of solitude was suddenly disturbed when her compartment door opened. Hermione lifted her blue eyes in surprise and was greeted with emerald eyes that haunted her dreams daily.

"Oh, hello," the girl with the fiery red hair greeted. "Terribly sorry for bothering you, but you see the other compartments are already full. I was hoping we can share this one with you?"

Hermione blinked her owlish eyes and glanced at the sullen boy hovering behind the girl. Although several years younger, her previous Potions professor's face was unmistakable. There were still dark shadows under his eyes, most likely from spending too much time brewing potions during ungodly hours, and his hair was still a tad greasy. The young Severus Snape narrowed his black eyes at her staring.

"Um… you're a first year, aren't you?" Lily Potter – _no_ , Evans – said, prompting Hermione's eyes to land back on her. Lily's wide smile faltered when Hermione continued to merely stare. "It's… it's all right. We're second years, you see, but we're not going to bite."

Her smile became full blown once more at her joke, but Hermione still continued to stare. Seeing James Potter for the first time had been easier, because although he looked exactly like her Harry Potter, his eyes were hazel and he didn't act like Harry.

But Lily… Lily had Harry's eyes, and Harry's warmth, and Harry's humor, and it almost hurt Hermione's heart just looking at the young girl.

"Come on, Lily," Snape suddenly snapped. "I don't think this idiot wants us to be here."

"Sev!" Lily admonished with a light glare. "Don't be such a sourpuss. She's clearly terrified of us."

The redhead kindly smiled at Hermione again. "I'm sorry, we've really looked throughout the whole train but there are no more seats." Lily didn't wait for Hermione to talk and invited herself inside. She placed her trunk beside Hermione's and slid beside the brunette. "We're really not that terrifying, _honestly_. Although" – she jutted a thumb towards the frowning boy – "that bloke can be batty sometimes, but he's not that bad either."

Snape loudly sighed and went inside, closing the door behind him. He sat opposite the two girls and crossed his arms across his chest.

"Um…" Lily leaned over and looked at the book placed on Hermione's lap. "Oh! _Hogwarts: A History_!" She grinned once more. "I didn't know people still read that. You know what? I think I was the only one in my year who read that before coming to school. _Honestly_ , I don't understand why they think it's such a bore to read. It's filled with fantastic facts about Hogwarts after all. I think I read it twice over the summer before school started."

"This is my third time reading it," Hermione suddenly blurted out.

Lily's eyes widened with her answer. Across from them, Severus snorted. "Ah, so she talks after all," he said with a bemused smirk.

The redhead sent him a reproachful glare but didn't humour him with a reply. Instead, she looked back at Hermione and grinned once more. "Your third time? Really? Wow, okay, hi I'm Lily Evans and I think we're going to get along swimmingly." She then offered her hand for a handshake.

Hermione reluctantly glanced at her proffered hand before grasping it lightly and giving it a slight shake. "Hermione Pettigrew," she murmured.

"Pettigrew?" Snape suddenly thundered. He made a face. "You're not related to _Peter_ Pettigrew, are you?"

"Well, he's my older brother so—"

The Slytherin loudly groaned and frowned at Lily. "Of all the carriages you choose, you went and got a free one with that stupid Gryffindor's _sister_."

"And that rude boy is Severus Snape. Don't mind him, really, he's not _that_ rude all the time." Lily gave him another scathing glare until Severus scowled and looked away.

Hermione nervously scratched her nose and briefly glanced at the sour Slytherin across from her. "Er, hi," she said.

Mentally, Hermione was smacking herself to get a grip. Although she practically knew these two people, they didn't know _her_. Both were just twelve-year-olds without the burden of a great war on their shoulders. Hermione just had to compose herself and start talking coherently; else, Severus's initial impression of her as an _idiot_ might stick until Hermione reached her seventh year.

"I didn't know Peter Pettigrew has a sister," Lily quipped. "But now I can see the resemblance. You have the same shade of hair and the blue eyes."

Hermione had to bite her tongue to stop herself from blurting out that _Lily_ had Harry Potter's eyes. _'Yes, okay, definitely an idiot, Hermione,'_ she told herself.

"I'm sure my brother was too busy wreaking havoc all over Hogwarts with his annoying friends, than to tell the whole school about me," the brunette answered.

Lily's eyes momentarily widened at her joke, then she burst out into a loud, lovely laugh. Even Snape looked highly amused at her words.

"Yes, okay, I think we are _definitely_ going to get along swimmingly," Lily reiterated, the wide grin still on her face.

The rest of the carriage ride was less awkward and Hermione found herself easily communicating with Lily—if she didn't stare too long at her green eyes.

It amused her immensely how Harry's mother was a huge _chatterbox_. She never really knew much about Lily Potter, except that her love for Harry had saved him from Voldemort's Avada—and by extension, the _whole_ Wizarding World. Both Sirius and Remus spoke about her with fondness and reverence, and so it disoriented Hermione a bit at how the girl never ran out of words to say. It was mighty amusing, though, and Hermione did believe she'd get along with her.

The young Severus Snape was just as sullen as his older counterpart. Although this boy was more annoyed most of the time, there wasn't any hint of grief or harshness in his eyes. She knew from Harry that he loved Lily Potter with his whole heart, willingly risking his life by becoming a double agent just to secretly protect her son, and it had admittedly painted him into a different light. Still, she couldn't entirely forgive him for bullying _children_. Neville's boggart was their Potions Master, for Merlin's sake. Although his intentions were perhaps noble, his attitude was still atrocious.

But this Slytherin was marginally better, _lighter_ , even, and right now she could see the admiration in his black eyes when he would indulge Lily and listen to her endless chattering.

While Lily continued enumerating her adventurous summer with her cranky sister, Petunia, Hermione glanced down at her hands and was surprised they were clenched into tight fists. Lily was lovely and Severus wasn't all that bad right now, at least. Hermione wondered if she'd be able to look away when they finally met their end.

Such harrowing thoughts left her mind completely when their carriage door was suddenly slid open. Before any of the three could react, two dungbombs were suddenly thrown inside their carriage. A soft 'boom' was heard and smoke with the putrid smell of faeces filled their carriage. Hermione gagged, instantly pinching her nose to keep the smell away.

Raucous laughter from outside rang in their small compartment. The lovely Lily suddenly grew thunderous as she jumped off from her seat and magicked the smoke and smell away. Severus also stood up from his seat, equally enraged, and was now clutching his wand in his right hand.

"Good one, Jamesy-boy!"

Hermione's eyes narrowed when she spied the rowdy Gryffindors, her brother included.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Lily loudly shrieked, threateningly waving her wand. Hermione would have found it amusing how the four boys slightly cowered upon seeing Lily, but she too was too enraged with their stupid prank.

"Aww, Lils, come on, it was funny," James Potter insisted with his stupid, _stupid_ lopsided grin.

"If you're the one who threw the stupid dungbombs, maybe," Hermione snarled from behind Lily.

The Gryffindor boys seemed to realise that it wasn't only Lily and Severus inside the compartment and looked at Hermione with wide eyes.

"Hermione!" Peter exclaimed, paling at the sight of his sister. "What the hell are _you_ doing here?"

"I was sitting here," Hermione shot back, cheeks reddening. "Talking with my _friends_. Then you suddenly ruined it with your ridiculous prank."

Lily seemed pleased with how Hermione addressed them. Even Severus quirked an eyebrow.

"You are friends with _Snivellus_?" Sirius asked with incredulity, scrunching his nose as if he could still smell the dungbombs.

Hermione lifted her chin and stared them down. "So what if I am?" she snapped. She never really found the fun of pranking someone just to get a laugh. Although she dearly loved the Weasley twins, their pranks sometimes bordered on _atrociousness_. _Well_ , the spectacle they threw during her fifth year was a wonderful exception, of course. And oh how some of the joke items they'd invented had been incredibly helpful prior to their horcrux hunt.

But _still_. Ridiculous boys who thought they were a riot for pulling pranks to oblivious persons just for the fun of it were stupid and annoying.

James narrowed his eyes and turned to Peter. "Your sister's no fun," he complained.

Peter paled and threw a dark glare at Hermione. The brunette did not appreciate Peter's accusatory look and threw her own glare at him in return.

"Piss off, Potter," Severus then snarled, speaking for the first time.

"Shut up, Snape," Sirius harshly cried, pulling out his wand to point at the Slytherin.

Hermione held her breath when Severus also pointed his wand at the Gryffindor. Internally groaning, she cursed her brother for spending time with bullies when all she wanted was for this year to pass by _smoothly_. So much for wanting to study in peace.

"Quit it," Remus hissed under his breath, desperately clutching onto Sirius' hovering hand. "We're not even in Hogwarts yet but you're already trying to get us into detention."

Mercifully, Sirius lowered his wand. Snape still hadn't lowered his, but Lily stepped directly in front of his wand tip to stop him from throwing a hex despite Sirius's obvious retreat.

"Let's just go," Remus insisted. "We already threw the dungbombs and they're obviously annoyed. We had our fun."

Both James and Sirius still glowered at Snape. Then, the Black heir looked at Hermione and frowned. "You really shouldn't hang out with a snake like him, kitten," he admonished.

"My name is 'Hermione'!" she thundered.

James rolled his eyes and motioned for them to follow him, finally leaving the three alone.

Once Lily loudly slid the door shut, she rounded on the other two with blazing eyes. "Those… those _berks_!" she exclaimed. Her red hair almost crackled with energy and Hermione swore it looked aflame. "I really don't know why they're still picking on you, Sev."

"They're a bunch of idiots," he snarled, plopping down on his seat and crossing his arms petulantly. "What do you expect, Lily?"

The older witch glanced apologetically at Hermione. "I'm sorry," she said, reaching forward to squeeze her arm. "We're still on the train – and it's your _first_ ride too – but you've been pulled into this ridiculous school rivalry between my best friend and those dolts."

Snape snorted, but didn't offer a response.

Hermione sighed and her fingers itched to rub the bridge of her nose. "It's all right," she said as she sat back down on the seats. "I grew up with a ridiculous brother for eleven years. I've had worse days."

Lily smiled prettily at Hermione, thoroughly relieved that she didn't blame them for her horrible first train ride. "I always wanted a brother," she confessed, sitting back down beside Hermione. "My sister's such a bummer – she's overbearing, _seriously_ – so I thought a brother would have been nice, you know."

The brunette snorted. "You're lucky, that's what you are," was her reply.

**-ooo-**

She'd done this once, all right, but Hermione still couldn't stop her giddiness.

The boat ride was amazing, and she couldn't suppress her tears when Hogwarts finally came into view. Her last memory of Hogwarts was full of pain and grief, and she had been unable to watch as her home crumbled right before her eyes. She was glad at least that she was able to see it in its former glory once more.

Hermione stumbled out of the rickety boat and quickly trailed behind the towering form of Hagrid. She was stupidly grinning at his back as he called the first years into order, disbelieving that Hagrid looked the _same_ the last time she had seen him.

Hagrid brought them into the castle and collective gasps of wonder from the other first years permeated the silent walls. The gatekeeper heartily laughed and bid them goodbye, before sauntering inside the Great Hall. Hermione was able to peak into the small slit of space separating them from the other older students, and she was able to briefly hear the loud merriment inside.

Her heart raced at the thought of attending Hogwarts again and she grinned at the boy standing beside her, equally mesmerised himself.

Professor McGonagall then approached the first years and told them the instructions on how to be Sorted. Hermione softly laughed when she heard sighs of relief from the students when they discovered that a Sorting Hat would place them into their respective houses. No doubt they had heard terrifying rumours about the Sorting from the older students, and had been most likely dreading it.

The Deputy Headmistress' speech was almost the same as the one the 'old' Hermione Granger had heard the first time she had come to Hogwards. By the time McGonagall was finished, Hermione's eyes had widened beyond belief. The older witch commanded them to fall into a straight line before beckoning them to follow inside the Great Hall.

The merriment she'd heard became full blast when the first years finally came inside. Hermione's cheeks were flushed with excitement and embarrassment, aware how the older students were eyeing the first years with interest in their eyes. She caught Peter's wink when she passed by their table and she grinned, momentarily forgetting how he and his friends had been prats back on the Hogwarts Express.

The Sorting Hat sat on an old stool at the very front. McGonagall then pulled out a scroll from her robe pockets and started to call out the names of the students.

Hermione recognised some of the names being called out and tried to see their resemblance with their future children.

"Black, Regulus."

A hush fell in the Great Hall as a boy that looked _exactly_ like Sirius strutted proudly towards the small stool. The only difference he had to Sirius maybe was that little smirk on his face that was strangely reminiscent of the bully Draco Malfoy.

Hermione briefly glanced at his older brother at the Gryffindor table and it was obvious that Sirius was more nervous for his brother's Sorting than Regulus himself.

Professor McGonagall then placed the Hat on top of Regulus' perfectly styled hair and not even a few seconds had passed when the Sorting Hat blurted a proud "SLYTHERIN!"

Sirius's loud wailing was left unheard amidst the boisterous clapping of the Slytherin House. There was unmistakable relief on the young boy's face as he slid down from the stool and proudly strolled towards his new house. It didn't escape Hermione's notice, however, how the little boy threw a hasty glance at the Gryffindor table, where Sirius was lamenting over his brother's Sorting, and saw the regret in his eyes. But it was soon gone, and the youngest Black was welcomed warmly by his new Housemates.

Hermione returned her attention to the Sorting and before she knew it, her name had been called.

"Pettigrew, Hermione!" Professor McGonagall sternly shouted.

Nerves racked her body as Hermione slowly approached the stool. Before Professor McGonagall lowered the Hat over her head, she was able to see Peter gesturing a thumb's up for good luck. Then, her vision was completely blocked as the brim of the oversized hat completely covered her eyes and perched on the bridge of her nose.

" _Hmm… curious, very curious,"_ the Hat whispered in her mind. _"You are a tricky little girl now, Miss Pettigrew, aren't you?"_

" _What do you mean?"_ Hermione nervously asked.

" _I see… I see proud ambition in your heart. Perhaps you'd be better suited in Slytherin?"_ it suggested, but then it started tutting and if Hermione could describe its actions, she'd reckon it was trying to shake its head. _"No, no, Slytherin will not bring out the best in you. Hmm… I feel deep bravery and loyalty within you. A ferocious lion, I'm sure you will be. Perhaps Gryffindor?"_

Hermione mentally sighed. _"I'm not brave,"_ she pointed out. _"Not anymore, I don't think."_

" _And why do you say that?"_ the Sorting Hat asked, surprised.

" _I – well – it's complicated,"_ she tried to explain. _"I ran away, you see. It's – just –_ no _, no, I don't think I am brave anymore."_

Hermione could feel her cheeks heating up in embarrassment, realising she had almost poured out her heart to an enchanted Hat.

" _Hmm… but then I see such knowledge, so vast and deep, more so than other children your age,"_ the Hat continued. _"Maybe you are suited more in Ravenclaw after all."_

" _You did consider putting me to Ravenclaw before, you know,"_ she thought with a small smile on her face.

" _I beg your pardon?"_ the Hat asked, quite confused.

" _Never mind that,"_ she quickly added.

" _Well, in that case, I think I will place you in –_ RAVENCLAW!"

The Sorting Hat was immediately removed from her head and Hermione's eyes took a few seconds to readjust with the sudden onslaught of bright lights. The whole Ravenclaw table were clapping enthusiastically for their new housemate and Hermione, with a dazed grin on her face, jumped down from the stool and ran quickly towards her new House.

"Blimey, I think that was the longest Hatstall since, I dunno, _forever_!" a Ravenclaw girl, with brown hair and grey eyes exclaimed as Hermione sat down.

Hermione blushed. "What? Really? How long was it?" she asked. She had been a Hatstall in her previous life too, and she didn't expect to be one in this lifetime too.

"Hmm, maybe five or six minutes," the pretty girl said with a grin.

Hermione sheepishly smiled. "Well, the Hat did say I was a 'tricky little girl'," she said, and then laughed.

The other girl also laughed, then offered her hand. "Hi, I'm Dorothy Boot. First year, like you." She then pointed at the girl sitting beside her with silky, black hair and brown eyes. "That's Michelle Corner, also first year." The girl smiled and Hermione's eyes widened, finally seeing her resemblance with the future Michael Corner.

Dorothy then pointed at the last girl sitting beside Michelle. The girl had blonde hair and grey eyes, and she gave Hermione a toothy grin when she caught her looking. "And that's Alexandrea Goldstein."

The blonde snorted. "Please, Alex will do just fine," she quipped. "Only my mother uses my whole name, and she almost always uses it when she's pissed."

Hermione laughed and nodded. "All right," she said. "Hi, I'm Hermione Pettigrew."

Michelle leaned a little closer to Hermione and threw a quick glance over at the Gryffindor table. "You're not related to Peter Pettigrew, are you?" she asked, interest in her eyes.

"Unfortunately, he's my older brother," Hermione said with an overdramatic sigh. Dorothy grinned at her melodrama but didn't say anything. "Wait, you know my brother?"

Michelle nodded her head. "I have an older brother – he's in second year – and he's in Gryffindor, too. Said Peter Pettigrew and his other friends were _bloody_ wicked," she gushed out, prompting Alex to snort beside her. "I heard their pranks were legendary."

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "More of a _nuisance_ actually," she corrected. "My mother almost blew her top off when McGonagall sent her a letter about my brother's shenanigans last school year. I had to stop her from sending a Howler to Peter just to save him from further embarrassing himself."

"Really?" Alex asked, hiding a laugh. " _Merlin_ , they sound more of a menace than anything else."

"I think you got that right," Hermione said, laughing herself.

* * *

**October 25, 1972**

"Seriously, Hermione. You're studying on a day like this?"

The brunette grinned and lifted her eyes off her parchment. Lily's green eyes were glistening with amusement as she sauntered closer to the library table which Hermione occupied and pulled out the chair beside her. She then deposited all of her things on top of the table and sat down. Severus, as usual, took the chair opposite Lily's and pulled out his other things to start working on his essay.

"Pot, kettle," she replied and went back to her Charms book.

Lily expelled a deep sigh. "You're still in your _first year_ , Hermione," she explained. "You have to go around and make more friends, explore Hogwarts, and even discover secret places while you can."

"Funny," Severus said with a bemused frown on his face. "You did none of those things when you were a first year, Lily."

"Shut up, Sev, not helping," Lily said, playfully smacking his hand away.

Hermione snickered under her breath, prompting the Slytherin to glare her way. "I like studying, Lily," she explained. "There's plenty of time to make friends."

The Gryffindor frowned and finally dropped the subject.

As they started doing their own homework in peace, Hermione chanced a glance at the redhead beside her, then at the sullen boy across from her, and unwittingly smiled once again. After Hermione was settled in Hogwarts and had started going to her classes, Lily Evans had taken it upon herself to take Hermione under her wing. She insisted that she might need an older girl who would help her with her work or guide her with various things. Lily and Severus had usually studied with her since then, and Hermione would indulge the kind witch by asking various, silly questions, which she knew the answer to anyway. It was worth it upon seeing Lily's delighted face, but both the second years soon discovered that Hermione was a brilliant little thing and had started asking _her_ about things they reckoned she would know the answer to.

Although Hermione had gained a few friends in her new House and year, she found herself spending most of her time with both Lily and Severus. They were wonderful company, and great study buddies too. It made her heart flutter at how Lily would always invite her over to study with her and the Slytherin.

It was a blessing she got Sorted into Ravenclaw, because at least she could steer clear from the rowdy Marauders and other important figures in the coming First Wizarding War, and not get herself too involved with their lives. But every time Lily looked at her with those _bright bright bright_ green eyes of hers, inviting her over to study or to hang out with her and Severus, Hermione found herself unable to decline.

Sometimes, secretly, Hermione fancied herself into thinking that Harry Potter was the one inviting her to study or hang out with—with his _bright bright bright_ green eyes and ridiculous smile.

"What are you studying?" Lily asked, glancing over at her Charms book. "Oh, the Levitation Charm?"

Hermione nodded her head. "Professor Flitwick said he'll teach it to us on Halloween so I'm doing some advanced reading," she explained.

The redhead hummed under her breath and once again glanced at the brunette's book. "Remember about proper pronunciation," she pointed out. "Most first years botched up their first try with this spell because they're not saying it properly. Honestly, most say it as Wingardium Le-vi-O-sa when in fact its—"

"—Le-vio-SA," Hermione finished with a grin, at the same time Lily did.

The Gryffindor's eyes widened when Hermione laughed. "I've read it countless times, Lily," she assured. "I'm sure I have the pronunciation embedded in my neurons."

Severus suddenly groaned, prompting Hermione to look over at him in question. "Great, a kindred swot," he grumbled under his breath. "One was enough, _honestly_."

Hermione sputtered out a laugh when the Slytherin was obviously trying to hide a smile. Lily then caught both of Hermione's hands and with bright, glittering eyes, she proclaimed, "We're going to be best friends forever, Hermione Pettigrew."

Her eyes widened at Lily's earnest declaration, before a large grin grew on her face. "I think that will be wonderful," she said, unable to glance away from Lily's green eyes.

"I think that will be a _nightmare_ ," Severus offered.

"Shut up, Severus, no one's talking to you," Lily snapped back.

Hermione laughed at the glare on the Slytherin's face, but Lily was undeterred.

Maybe her life in Hogwarts would be interesting after all.

* * *

**February 10, 1973**

"Hermione!"

The brunette skidded to a halt as she craned her neck over her shoulder, surprised to see her older brother running to catch up with her. "Peter?" she asked, suddenly worried. "What's wrong?" He never really went out of his way to seek her out. Not that Hermione minded, really. She was busy breezing through her first year, attending each class and attentively listening to her professors. She had been through these lessons before, of course, and admittedly she sometimes got bored with the basic lessons, but the normalcy of it all was refreshing and Hermione soaked it all up like bright, warm sunlight.

She waited until Peter had finally caught up with her and grabbed onto her elbow. "Where are you headed to?" he asked, ignoring her previous question.

"I was about to go to the Black Lake to do some light reading," she said, waving the huge tome in the air for her brother to see.

Peter's eyes almost popped out from their sockets. "You call that light reading?" he asked, incredulous. Upon seeing her eyebrow raise, he rolled his eyes. "Never mind. Don't answer that."

"What's wrong?" she repeated, this time with more urgency.

He blinked his blue eyes at her with an innocent smile on his face. "What? Do I need a decent reason to catch up with my sister?" he asked.

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Now, something's definitely wrong," she pointed out.

Peter boisterously laughed and tugged her towards the Black Lake. They trudged through the Hogwarts grounds with Peter constantly asking her questions about how she was, how her classes were, was she coping brilliantly, and although Hermione knew it wasn't Peter's primary purpose for approaching her today, she indulged him with her honest answers.

By the time they had reached Hermione's favourite tree – a huge, towering oak with long enough branches to give her a cool shade – Peter turned to Hermione with a stern look in his eyes.

"Are you still hanging out with Snivel – _Snape_?" he asked, quickly correcting his mistake.

Hermione's eyebrows flew up to her hairline. "This is about _Severus_?" she asked in surprise, holding back a smile when he scowled at how she addressed the Slytherin.

"So you are still hanging out with him," he accused.

She shrugged her shoulders and daintily sat down on the dry grass beneath the huge tree. "So what if I am?" she bit back.

Peter groaned and fell on his knees in front of her. "Hermione, he's a _Slytherin_ ," he insisted as if it was reason enough.

"You still believe in that ridiculous House codswallop?" she asked, snorting in disbelief.

"He's slimy and he's a git," Peter continued with a glare. "He's _mean_ and evil, Hermione."

"Oh, are we criticising each other's friends now?" she hotly asked. "Then, okay, your friends are pompous and annoying. They're bullies, for Merlin's sake, Peter. How can you step aside and watch while they reign terror over the other students?"

"They don't 'reign terror'," he vehemently defended with a frown on his face.

"And Severus isn't evil," she shot back.

Peter expelled a loud sigh and slumped forward. "Sirius and James – _well_ , they were raised as proper Purebloods with stuffy traditions and all," he reasoned out. "And, I know they can be right arses and pompous gits, but they really do mean well, Hermione. And… and once you become friends with them, they will swear to have your back."

Her ire simmered down as she reached out and held his hand. "And Severus isn't evil, Peter," she said. "Sure, he's sullen all the time and he's not exactly sunshine and rainbows, but he's not all bad. He tries to help me with some of my Potions work and you know how he's a prodigy with it."

He gave her a pointed glance. "So it's safe to assume you're not going to listen to me?" he asked, a hint of a smile on his face despite his exasperated glance.

"Since when do I listen to you?" she asked with a snort.

Peter sighed once more and squeezed her hand. "James and Sirius with Snape – they're not really the best of mates, you know. Got off on the wrong foot even before they all got off the Hogwarts Express and were properly Sorted. So, the victim of most of their elaborate pranks is _Snape_. I just worry because you spend most of your time with him and you might get caught in the crossfire."

"That's very sweet of you, Peter, but don't you think it will be better if you just tell your friends to _back the hell off_?" Hermione asked with a smile.

He sheepishly grinned in return. "Sirius and James are mighty stubborn once they set their mind to it," he explained, his tone apologetic. "It will be hard to keep them from bothering Snape."

"You can stand up to your friends once in a while, you know," she offered. "Lily does it to Sev all the time when he's being a berk. Which is, mind you, _always_."

"Language," Peter admonished with a small smirk on his face.

"Lily's starting to rub off of me," she laughed. "But seriously, Petey, Sirius and James – you can't just put them on a pedestal and do whatever they say, follow them wherever they go."

His cheeks coloured and he looked away. "You – well – you don't understand, Hermione," he insisted, now with a stubborn pout on his face. "We grew up in our neighbourhood labelled as freaks by the other children. At least with my friends… I feel like I truly belong, if you know what I mean?"

Hermione grew sombre with his words and thought about Lily and Severus. Their wholehearted acceptance almost blew Hermione away because she herself struggled with making friends. Harry and Ron didn't become her friends immediately, after all. It literally took a near-death experience for them to forge a colossal bond. But with Lily and Severus… the first time they had met her on the Hogwarts Express, Lily – and by default Severus - had already decided they wanted to make Hermione their friend. It was a lovely feeling to belong immediately, without trying to prove herself too much.

"I'm glad you feel that way, Petey," Hermione said, reaching forward to squeeze his arm. "Just… just don't do anything you think is stupid if they tell you to, yeah?"

She frowned when Peter coloured once more and was unable to look into Hermione's eyes. Silently, she observed her brother and noticed the dark bags under his eyes and how his skin had grown sallower since the last time she'd seen him. She tried to rack her brain for any memory of what had happened during the Marauder's second year.

"You look tired," she pointed out, narrowing her eyes suspiciously when he paled.

"Second year is hard," he pointed out a little too quickly. "Not everybody is blessed with your brains, Hermione."

And then, it clicked.

During their second year, the Marauders discovered that Remus Lupin was a werewolf. If Hermione's deductions were correct, they were already trying to come up with the difficult plan of learning how to become Animagi.

Hermione smiled and shook her head. Although they were frightful bullies, she thought it was lovely how they were willing to do everything just to make Remus feel he wasn't alone.

"Just be careful, Peter, okay?" she asked, squeezing his arm once again. "Maybe this time I won't be able to stop Mum from sending you a Howler if she discovered you did something stupid again."

He threw her a lazy grin and shrugged his shoulders. "I'll try my best, but really, Hermione, no promises," he said.

This made her laugh, in spite of herself. "Berk," she murmured under her breath.

"Language!" he laughingly exclaimed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be Hermione's second year already. I've only decided to write a chapter about her first year because honestly, it's pretty uneventful and I don't really plan for anything big to happen this year.
> 
> So, I've finally introduced Lily and Severus! The latter was easier to write because he's basically one of the main characters in the series. Lily, on the other hand, is like James. I based her characterisation on how Slughorn described her ("vivacious") and how she was popular among her peers. I think being a chatterbox really suits her well hahaha. Also, one of my dealbreakers for James/Hermione fanfics are Lily bashing (unless this plot device is used properly and her attitude was explained). I can't wrap my head around an 'evil, bitchy Lily' because her love basically saved the whole Wizarding World by sacrificing herself selflessly for her son. I think it's just a bit OOC but oh well, to each his own hahaha. So if you expect this fic will be unkind to Lily, then I'm sorry for bursting your bubble :( I'm sure there are a lot of fanfics out there that has Lily bashing.
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr! (kimmy-writes)


	6. chapter five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story already reached 100 kudos!!! I think... I think I'm going to cry :( 
> 
> Again, this chapter is set in Hermione's second year (Marauder's third year).

* * *

**v.**

_**i want to disappear and just start over** _

(Hercules by Sara Bareilles)

* * *

**November 6, 1973**

Hogwarts was truly mundane now that she wasn't pulled into various adventures.

Hermione was amazed how she breezed through her first year without much of a hitch. Sans fighting trolls, three-headed dogs, and an evil Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher with Voldemort's face hidden underneath his smelly turban, she was able to focus on her studies and managed to end the year as top of her class. The yearlong supply of toffee in her trunk—care of Peter—was proof enough of her hard work.

And Hermione should be thankful for all of this, because she wasn't fighting for her life or keeping her friends alive, but… but it felt normal, _too_ normal. Hermione Granger grew up not knowing what normal was because as a Muggleborn, she couldn't understand at first why she was the only one who knew how to conjure birds out of thin air. Or, as part of the Golden Trio, she didn't have the luxury of relaxing for a day knowing that a madman was after her best friend.

She wished for this normalcy, _craved_ for this even. After all, this reason was partly why she agreed to Harry's insane idea to drink that stupid potion anyway.

But now that she was able to achieve that normalcy… _well_ …

Hermione sighed and placed her forehead on top of her book, taking in a deep breath to rid her thoughts of such ridiculous things. _'Just be thankful for what you have, Hermione Pettigrew,'_ a voice admonished inside, strangely sounding like Hermione Granger, and the twelve-year-old felt a little shamefaced.

"I'm sorry," she whispered in the silent library.

"Sorry for what?"

She immediately sat up straight and coloured when Lily and Sev came towards her table. "Hey," Hermione greeted with a smile, ignoring Lily's previous question. "You're here early."

"Not earlier than you, apparently," Lily said with a laugh, settling on the chair beside her.

"Merlin, Pettigrew, have you been sleeping at all?" Severus asked, looking at her bemusedly.

"Of course I have been," Hermione retorted, with a frown. "It's you who hasn't been sleeping properly at all, Sev."

Lily snorted and pointed her wand at the Slytherin. "He's been slaving over his extra merit potions for Professor Slughorn for days now, Hermione, I tell you," she started. "I don't even understand why he's trying to make everything perfect. I mean, he's Severus Snape for Merlin's sake!. Half of the student body knows he's a child prodigy when it comes to potioneering."

"I have to make it perfect," he protested with a glare. "Slughorn expects as much."

" _Professor_ Slughorn," Hermione corrected, prompting him to roll his eyes. "And Lily's right, Sev. You don't have to worry too much about it. It's not even graded, you know. You're just doing him a favour."

"Can we please just stop talking about what I want to do with my free time?" the exasperated Slytherin asked. "I thought you wanted to study with us because you wanted help with your Potions essay."

Hermione and Lily exchanged meaningful glances, but silently agreed they should drop this issue. Severus could be really tetchy when it came to Potions. He was often incorrigible, but when they started asking about his unhealthy obsession over brewing the perfect batch of potions, he'd be downright unreasonable.

"Fine," Hermione said after a long-suffering sigh. She then pushed the book she was reading towards him and pointed out a passage. "I have trouble understanding what this means. I tried to read about it more from other books, but so far it has been futile."

As she watched him silently read over the passage, Hermione secretly wondered if twelve-year-old Severus Snape was really as brilliant as what their professors insisted. Of course, she'd known the answer to this question, having gone through advanced potions in the future and retaining top marks. Learning about the basics was tiresome, but of course it would be mighty suspicious if Hermione Pettigrew knew about things even adult wizards never thought about. Keeping pretences, asking questions she already knew the answers to… all of these were just her cover up just to let Hogwarts in the 1970's know that Hermione Pettigrew was a brilliant witch – but not _that_ brilliant that she should start taking up advanced classes just to challenge her brain. Being labelled as a genius in this time would be disastrous, like sticking a bright neon green sign on her chest labelled 'Pick Me' for Voldemort to immediately notice.

 _No_ , as much as how she hated the monotony of it all, Hermione must lie low and keep her head down if she wanted to live a normal life during this lifetime.

"Merlin, even a Muggle can answer your question, Pettigrew," Severus suddenly snarled with a frown, grabbing onto her spare parchment and scratching words and symbols Hermione was already familiar with.

"Nobody's a genius like you in Potions, you berk," Lily snapped back, hurtling a crumpled parchment his way. Instead of hitting its intended target, the parchment flew overhead and thumped against the window.

"Nice aim, Evans," Severus snorted. "I didn't—OW!"

"SHH!" Madame Pince shrilly called, prompting the three students to freeze in their seats.

"You didn't have to shout so loud," Lily murmured under her breath while trying to bite down a growing smile. Hermione unfortunately, was having a hard time keeping her giggles contained, her shoulders already shaking with the hilarity of it all.

" _You_ didn't have to bloody send a Stinging Hex my way just because I stated the fact that you have poor hand-eye coordination," Severus protested.

Lily's green eyes flickered in challenge as she raised her wand again. "I'll show you my proper hand-eye coordination, Sev. You just—"

"Stop it, you prats," Hermione cried, unable to rein in her laughter. Their eyes comically widened when Madame Pince stomped towards their table and shooed them away for being ridiculously loud in the library.

Shamefaced, the three students crammed their things inside their bags and hastily walked away from the librarian's ire.

"This is all your fault," Lily laughed once they were safely outside the library. "If you weren't being a berk, we could have stayed their longer."

Severus scoffed. " _My_ fault?" he asked with a glare, although the way his lips twitched in amusement was not unnoticed by the two. "How was it my fault?"

"Shut it," Hermione cried, loudly laughing when Lily broke into giggles and Severus gave them both a small smile. "That was the first time I have been kicked out from the library and it's because of you _dolts_."

Even in her past life, Hermione was never chased away by Madame Pince, even when she was researching with Harry and Ron.

Lily laughed and linked arms with Hermione. "We got kicked out all the time because we bicker a lot," she confessed, reaching for Snape to hook her other arm around his. "It's a wonder why Madame Pince still let us go there."

"I still haven't finished my Potions essay, though," the brunette lamented.

"We can do our homework near the Black Lake," Severus suggested.

The Gryffindor was wholeheartedly nodding her head and started pulling the two enthusiastically towards the Black Lake. Severus was loudly protesting about being manhandled by the petite redhead, and Hermione was unable to stop herself from laughing loudly again.

Although Hogwarts was mundane, she couldn't deny she had found wonderful friends after all.

* * *

**March 17, 1974**

"So, you finally finished it?"

Severus slowly blinked his heavy-lidded eyes and knitted his eyebrows. "I'm sorry?" he asked, stifling a yawn.

"Your extra merit potion," Hermione elaborated, pointing at a small vial filled with amber liquid placed on top of the table.

"Oh, right, yeah," he murmured tiredly, before letting his head fall back on the wooden table in the library.

The Ravenclaw expelled a humongous sigh. "Merlin, Sev, be kinder to yourself," she said, pulling the chair across from him and sitting on it. "When was the last time you ate?"

"Yesterday lunch, I think," he answered, voice slightly muffled.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Sev!" she softly exclaimed. "It's dinnertime already."

He snorted derisively. "Astute observation, Pettigrew," he murmured.

"Bloody hell." She shook her head disapprovingly and started shoving his things inside his backpack. "Where's Lilys?"

"Dunno," he answered. "Said she had to finish some project with McKinnon. I didn't care."

Hermione fought the urge to rub the bridge of her nose. She was aware how she was an excessive learner, sometimes skipping meals just to stick to her schedule. But, after being on the run with Harry and Ron, starved and exhausted beyond reason, she came to appreciate the importance of eating meals and sleeping enough. It was honestly a luxury for those who were in a raging war.

"Get up," she ordered, pushing the table to stand up. She slung the strap of her bag over her shoulder and grabbed onto Severus'. She made a face, realising it weighed a _ton_. "What are you carrying in here? _Rocks_?" She didn't wait for his answer and instead spelled it to be featherweight, before also slinging his strap over her other shoulder.

"Come on, Sev, get up," she said, harshly poking his arm.

He flinched and batted her hand away. "Go away, Hermione," he murmured. "I'm trying to sleep here."

"You can do that _after_ you eat dinner, for Merlin's sake," she insisted, now starting to pull his arm away. "If Lily was here, she'd hex you good just to get you to the Great Hall."

Severus expelled a long-suffering sigh before finally relenting. "You're bloody annoying. Do you know that?" he snarled back, grabbing onto the potion vial and allowing Hermione to pull him out of the library.

"I've been told so many times before I'm not even surprised anymore," she shot back, prompting him to snort.

The corridors were almost empty because most of the student body were in the Great Hall already. Hermione had to keep Severus steady because he kept wobbling in tiredness, almost falling asleep, despite walking.

"Why are you so obsessed with perfecting your bloody potions?" Hermione cried after Sev almost tripped over a foot from a suit of armour.

He tiredly glared down at her. "Why are you so obsessed with being a swot?" he shot back.

Hermione sighed and shook her head. "You really should start taking care of yourself more," she nagged. "Eat on time, sleep enough, _Merlin_ , even shower at least every other day!" She glanced disdainfully at his lanky hair and hazarded that his hygiene habits had never changed even after growing up.

"Piss off, Pettigrew," he said with a light glare.

She pinched his arm very hard, prompting him to hiss in pain. " _Lily's_ such a bad influence to you," he stated, annoyed. "Now, you're resorting to violence too."

"If we have a berk for a best friend, I think violence is acceptable if it means he's going to start taking care of himself more."

He rolled his eyes and was about to retort something in return, but then, the doors of the Great Hall opened. Dread bloomed in her heart when the Gryffindor menaces – fondly christened by Severus Snape himself – strolled out from the Hall, horsing around and shoving each other's shoulders.

They stopped in their tracks when they saw both Hermione and Severus. The brunette tightly squeezed the Slytherin's arm to keep him in place when she felt him tense up.

"All right, Pettigrew?" James asked, briefly throwing a glance towards the Ravenclaw, before resuming his glaring contest with her tired best friend.

"I've been well, thank you," Hermione stiffly said. "Now, if you'll excuse us—"

"What's that?" Sirius suddenly asked.

The brunette knitted her eyebrows. "What's what?"

The Black heir suddenly shot forward and grabbed the potion vial from Snape, a menacing glint in his eyes. "Hey, Remus, do we have an assignment from Old Sluggie about making a potion like this?" he asked.

Remus grabbed the vial from Sirius and examined the sloshing amber liquid inside. "Well… no, I don't think so," he murmured. He observed the liquid for a while and knitted his eyebrows. "I don't recognise it at all, though. It looks like Pepper-Up, but its shade is darker." Snape's breath hitched when Remus removed the stopper and wafted a smell. "It _doesn't_ smell like Pepper Up."

"Give it back," Severus ground out, hands clenched tightly at his sides.

Sirius quirked an eyebrow at his obvious ire. "Or what, Snivellus?" he taunted, grabbing the potion from Remus' hands again. "You'll hex us?"

He mocked him by waving the vial in the air.

"Sirius, quit it," Hermione cried out. "It isn't yours. Give it back."

"Stay out of this, kitten," Sirius said with a disapproving frown. He then looked over his head and glared at Peter. "Your sister's still hanging out with this berk?"

"Give it back!" Severus growled and lunged forward.

Hermione acted quickly and placed both of her hands against his chest to stop his assault. "Sev, come on," she insisted, trying to appease her suddenly furious friend.

Sirius snorted and casually threw the potion vial towards James. She felt Severus stiffen against her when he watched the potion he'd worked so hard on for _months_ sail through the air. He was only able to breathe properly when James caught it deftly with his Quidditch-trained reflexes.

"What does this even do?" James loudly asked, removing the stopper once more to smell its contents. "Ack, it's like I'm sniffing smelly socks."

"Maybe it's to stop Snivellus from having smelly feet," Sirius cried, laughing boisterously at the thought.

" _Or_ , maybe stop him from being smelly altogether," Peter offered. He grinned proudly when his other friends laughed loudly at his suggestion. Hermione threw him a disappointed glance, causing his grin to falter. Peter quickly looked away from his sister.

"Oh, Snivellus, haven't you heard?" the bespectacled boy sneered. "The only way to stop yourself from being smelly is by taking a nice, proper shower. Though, I wouldn't be surprised if you haven't heard of a shower before, because, _you know_ , your hair's all greasy and shiny."

Severus struggled to break free from Hermione's grasp. "Get off, Hermione," he growled.

"They're not worth it, Sev, come on," the brunette pleaded. Then, darkly glaring, she craned her neck over her shoulder and snarled, "Give the potion back to him, Potter, or I _swear_."

"Oooh, feisty kitten," Sirius taunted.

James' hazel eyes glinted. "Or you swear to what?" he challenged. Hermione's eyes narrowed more when the Gryffindor pulled his wand from his sleeves and pointed it at the vial. "Try to finish that sentence, Pettigrew."

"You wouldn't dare," she harshly spat.

"Is that a challenge?" he asked with a gleeful smile. Hermione then watched with horror as James waved his wand and muttered a soft _'Evanesco'_. The amber liquid inside the vial completely vanished as Severus stilled against her arms.

Behind him, Remus knitted his eyebrows. "James, mate, I think that wasn't really necess—"

"YOU! I WILL KILL YOU!" Severus thundered and struggled so strongly against Hermione, it was starting to become difficult to hold him back.

James's eyes widened at his sudden rage. "It's just a bloody potion, Snivellus," he muttered under his breath. "What's got your knickers in a twist?"

"Damn it, Potter," Hermione murmured under her breath when Severus finally broke free from her grasp. Quickly, she pulled out her wand and pointed it at Severus' back. " _Petrificus Totalus_!"

The Slytherin turned into stone and almost toppled backward. Hermione quickly came to his aid and gently placed him on the floor.

"Thanks, Hermione, I seriously thou—"

James' words died down from his lips as Hermione suddenly whipped at him with lightning speed, her wand threateningly pointed in his direction. "You… you arrogant, loathsome bully!" she screamed, stomping towards James until her wand tip was pointed against his nose.

"Hermione…" her brother tried to appease.

"Stay out of this, Peter," she harshly spat. Her older brother flinched at her tone and cowered away. He'd been living under the same roof with her for twelve years, after all. Seeing Hermione like this always spelled trouble.

"Merlin, calm down," James said, suddenly annoyed. "It's just a bloody potion."

Hermione tilted her head heavenward and swallowed down a scream. "You are, simply put, _unbelievable_ ," she snarled, pressing her wand tip harder against his nose. James scowled and tried to bat her hand away, but Hermione didn't budge. "He spent _months_ trying to perfect that potion, you bloody berk. He hasn't slept properly and has skipped meals because of it."

"Hey, hey, all right, calm down," Sirius appeased. "We didn't know. We're sorry."

"Sorry isn't enough," she snapped, eyes glinting dangerously. With a mighty slash of her wand, she snarled an incantation towards James's direction. The boy exclaimed a terrified shout when boogers started zooming out of his nostrils. They soon turned into bats and flapped their wings furiously against his face.

Identical horrified looks appeared on the other three boys. It was Peter who managed to snap out of his horror first. "Hermione!" he loudly cried. "Make it stop!"

Satisfied, she waved her wand and banished the Bat-Bogeys away. James's eyes were wide with mortification as he covered his nostrils.

"If you do not want a repeat performance, _stay away_ ," she warned in a low voice. Then, turning to Severus, she hauled him up and removed the spell. He glared darkly down at her but Hermione matched his gaze. "And _you_ , if you try to break away from my grasp again, I'm not going to hesitate throwing the same hex at you."

Severus petulantly looked away and allowed Hermione to drag him away from the other Gryffindors.

"Bloody _fucking_ hell, Peter," Sirius breathed out, eyes still wide as he looked at the horrified boy behind him. "Your sister's terrifying."

Peter's only answer was to hide his face behind his hands.

* * *

**March 18, 1974**

Lily was pacing furiously in front of the Black Lake, wearing the green grass down as she stomped on it.

Currently, she, Hermione, and Severus were lounging near the banks of the Black Lake. The news that Hermione Pettigrew threw a mean Bat-Bogey Hex had spread like an unforgiving wildfire throughout Hogwarts. Apparently, they were being too loud with their row and some students were able to witness the feisty twelve-year-old Ravenclaw hexing the boogers off James Potter and thereby reduced the rowdy Gryffindors into silence.

When Lily heard about this news the next morning, she immediately pulled her friends towards the Black Lake and started ranting about rude boys and stupid egos relentlessly.

"Lily, just stop. You're giving me a headache," Severus groaned and fell on his back, shielding his face from the bright sunlight with his hand.

"Why are you so nonchalant about this, Sev?" Lily cried, stopping right in front of him. "They ruined your extra merit potion. Those… those bloody _berks_!" She flew into another raging rant and Hermione, with a sigh, grabbed onto Lily's hand and pulled her down until she was sitting beside her.

"Sev was anything _but_ nonchalant yesterday, Lils, trust me," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes. "Almost tackled Potter down with sheer brute force."

Severus scowled. "You should have let me have a go at that imbecile, Pettigrew," he protested.

"And risk also getting placed under my Bat-Bogey Hex, Sev?" she innocently asked with a toothy grin. When he blushed and turned his face away, her grin widened. "I figured as much."

"I can't believe you can do a wicked Bat-Bogey Hex, Hermione," Lily said, awe in her voice. "Where the hell did you learn that?"

Hermione innocently shrugged. "A friend," was her mysterious answer, thinking about another redhead, in another lifetime, with gleaming bright brown eyes and a mischievous smile on her face.

"That's a difficult spell to master, you know," Sev said, pulling himself into a sitting position. "I didn't know you were capable of throwing such spells."

She froze a bit, before cautiously looking at the Slytherin. "Miranda Goshawk was able to throw a perfect Bat-Bogey Hex at eleven years old, Sev," she stated matter-of-factly.

"Well, yeah, because she was the one who _invented_ it," he shot back with an eye roll.

"Never mind about my magical prowess," Hermione said, eager to change the topic. "What did Slughorn say about your extra merit potion?"

Severus frowned and absentmindedly grazed his fingertips over the grass blades. "He was… understanding, I think," he said. "A bit disappointed, too, I guess, but after properly explaining what had happened, he said he'd be willing to wait a few more months. He said I should take my time, really."

"We can help you," Lily offered. Hermione vigorously nodded her head to concur.

"Don't bother," the Slytherin said with wrinkled nose. "I'm sure you'll botch it up if I let you both help."

Hermione leaned forward and smacked his arm. "Ungrateful git," she pointed out with a frown.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," he said, a little too nonchalantly. "You didn't have to do all those stupid things just to get back at Potter, Hermione."

She smiled, knowing that he was starting to use her first name more, rather than calling her 'Pettigrew'. "'Thank you, Hermione, you've been a wonderful friend'," she started with a low voice as she tried to poorly imitate Severus' voice. "That isn't too hard now, is it?"

"Shut up," Severus said, cheeks tinged red. "But… you know, for the record, that was a wicked Bat-Bogey Hex."

Hermione laughed. "Yeah?"

He solemnly nodded his head. "You can be bloody terrifying if you want to be. Do you know that?" he asked, the corners of his lips twitching into a smile. "I would sell all my fortunes just to see Potter's terrified look again."

"Damn it!" Lily whined. "Why wasn't I there to see it?" She then held both of Hermione's hands and pleaded, "Let me see it again, Hermione. Please. Everybody's talking about it and I'm devastated I wasn't able to see it." She then pointed a finger towards Severus without breaking eye contact. "You can practice on him, if you like."

"Thanks, Lily," he growled sarcastically.

Hermione laughed and pulled away from the pleading red-head. "Maybe next time, Lils," she apologised.

"Damn it," the disappointed Gryffindor breathed out once more.

* * *

**March 25, 1974**

"What do you want, Peter?" Hermione asked in annoyance.

"That's not the proper way to greet your brother," he pointed out with a frown on his face.

She lightly glared and plopped down on her chair. "If he's being a rightful git, I think I can greet him any way I want," she snapped back.

Peter expelled a humongous sigh and slumped down on his chair. "Merlin, you're still angry about that?" he incredulously asked. "That's been, I dunno, _days_ , Hermione. Surely you've forgotten about that by now."

Hermione's lips magnetised into a tight frown. "What do you want?" she repeated.

The Gryffindor sighed and scooted closer to his irritated sister. "James is sorry," he insisted. "We're _all_ sorry. We didn't know that potion was important to Snivel— _Snape_."

"You should have listened to him in the first place when he asked you to give it back," she rebutted, frown still in place. "What James did… it was _horrible_ , Peter. Sev hadn't eaten properly for days and the dark bags under his eyes were growing just because he was obsessed with brewing the perfect potion. He kept on telling Lily and me that he was over it already, that he'd just brew a new batch to pass on to Professor Slughorn, but I can tell he was devastated by the event. He worked really hard to complete it, Peter."

Peter looked properly shamefaced, his cheeks tinging red with embarrassment. "I'm sorry," he whispered once more.

"It isn't me you should be apologising to," she pointed out with a meaningful glance.

Unwittingly, he made a face. "I'm sure James would rather eat a rock than apologise to Sni – _Snape_ ," he said, followed by a deep sigh. "He got an earful from Remus afterwards. I know you think Remus lets them get away with all their stupid shenanigans, but he's the most decent of us four. James and Sirius highly respect his opinion and if he said something is stupid, then James and Sirius will believe it _is_ stupid."

"I don't think he tried hard enough to stop James from vanishing that potion," Hermione murmured under her breath. Granted, she remembered that he did try to stop James, but had been a tad too late.

"James has been properly reprimanded," he insisted.

Hermione sighed. "I don't really care what you do with your friends, _Merlin_ ," she claimed in exasperation. "Just please, please, _please_ , stay away from Sev. Being a half-blood Slytherin in this bloody school is already hard on him. You dolts don't have to increase his burden."

He merely shrugged, unwilling to speak out a promise they both knew would be broken anyway.

* * *

**March 27, 1974**

Hermione shrieked in surprise when she was suddenly doused with grimy, cold water. Both Lily and Severus, who were walking ahead of her, swivelled around and stared at her in shock. Mercifully, they were spared from the dirty water.

Raucous laughter from above reached her ears and Hermione snapped her neck upwards. Both James and Sirius were bent over, clutching their stomachs, as they continued to shake with uncontrollable laughter.

"Good one, Jamesy-boy!" Sirius said, wiping away some tears that had formed in his eyes. He grinned widely down at the furious brunette. "Sorry, kitten. I promise you, this will be a one-time thing since you're technically off limits as the sister of one of our mates."

James threw her a lazy grin and leaned down the bannister. "That's payback, Pettigrew," he blurted out.

"Piss off, Potter!" Lily exclaimed whilst Severus threw a rude hand gesture towards their general direction.

Hermione swiped away her dripping hair and darkly glared at the two Gryffindor boys. When she pulled her wand from her robe pocket and saw how they flinched in unison, a smirk grew on her face. Instead of pointing it towards the annoying boys, she charmed herself clean. Her hair had gone fluffier, prompting them to start laughing again, but Hermione merely harrumphed and walked away.

"Nice hair, Pettigrew," Severus drawled.

"Shut up, Snape," she snapped back.

Lily's eyes gleamed. "Ooh, will you throw a Bat-Bogey Hex now?" the redhead excitedly asked.

Severus paled while Hermione laughed. "Not today, Lils."

"Damn it," the redhead disappointedly replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean, the books basically said they were bullies, especially to Snape. I just wanted to establish that in this story hahahaha bloody berks
> 
> Again, Hermione's second year will only be told in one chapter because I still planned for this year to be pretty uneventful for our favorite Ravenclaw. So, next chapter will already be in Hermione's third year. I hope I'm not making you all dizzy by my time skips hahahaha.
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr! (kimmy-writes)


	7. chapter six

* * *

**vi.**

_**life is not meant to be wasted** _

(Chasing the Sun by Sara Bareilles)

* * *

**July 20, 1974**

"Hermione!"

The brunette looked up from the Transfiguration textbook she was reading and searched for Peter's voice.

"Over here!"

She blinked and glanced at their bathroom. Her brother's head was peeking out from the door, his eyes intently trained on their mother's back. He gestured for her to come towards him and confused, she mouthed 'Why?'

Instead of answering, he beckoned her more incessantly and Hermione had no choice but to jump down from her chair. She shot another look at her mother, who was busy fixing up their supper for tonight, before striding towards her brother.

He quickly yanked her inside and slammed the door behind her. Hermione frowned at his sudden pacing as she walked towards their toilet and closed the lid. She daintily sat down on top of it and expectantly looked at him. "Well?" she urged.

Peter stopped his pacing and frowned at Hermione. "Something's wrong with Mum," he whispered, loud enough for her to hear.

Hermione knitted her eyebrows. "What do you mean?" she asked.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "I knew you wouldn't notice because you're too busy burying your nose behind your precious books," he pointed out, ignoring her glare. "But lately she's been… _fidgety_. I dunno, I think she's keeping something from us."

"Maybe she's just trying to search for the right time to tell us," Hermione said with a half-shrug. "If Mum doesn't want to tell us something, then it's not really our business, Petey."

"I know that," he grumbled. "It's just… I think she'd been really lonely ever since we both started going to Hogwarts. I just worry about her sometimes."

Hermione smiled and stood up from the toilet. She wound her arms around his torso and squeezed him tight. "That's really sweet, Peter," she said. "I'm sure Mum doesn't want us to worry." She paused, then tilted her head in surprise. "You've grown taller!"

"Yeah?" he asked, a proud grin on his face. When she nodded her head, his grin grew. "I thought so too, but I wasn't really sure."

Their Mum then called for both of them and the Pettigrew siblings strode out of the bathroom and quickly went to the kitchen. While Peter helped their mother prepare the plates, Hermione opted to observe instead. Admittedly, she'd been swamped with summer homework and hadn't really gone out of her room much to do other things.

Now that Peter had pointed out about their mother's strange behaviour, Hermione noticed how Anya's shoulders were tensed with worry. She had been incessantly chewing her bottom lip – one of their mother's strange quirks when she was bothered by something – and this made Hermione concerned. Maybe whatever their mother was apprehensive about might be a big deal after all.

When they had all settled down and started piling heaps of food onto their plates, Anya cleared her throat to catch both of their attention. Hermione stilled and Peter paled, anticipating whatever their mother was going to tell them.

"Children," she started, "I have something to tell you."

She looked grim and it didn't help Hermione's worry at all.

"Did somebody die?" Peter suddenly blurted out.

Anya's blue eyes widened and she looked at him incredulously. "What?"

Peter grew paler. "You look like somebody died, Mum," he pointed out.

Their mother, blessedly, released a bout of nervous laughter. "No, no, sweetheart, nobody died," she reassured. Peter visibly relaxed, but still looked wary. "It's just… oh, how can I say this?" She nervously looked away and cleared her throat. "I've been… um – _well_ – I've been seeing someone for quite a while now."

Well, Hermione didn't expect that. "What?" she gasped in surprise. "Like a boyfriend?"

Anya coloured and sheepishly smiled. "It's a bit silly to call him that with my age now, don't you think?" she joked, trying to lighten the atmosphere. When both Peter and Hermione merely blinked at her, she sighed and continued, "Yes, yes, if you put it that way then yes. I have a boyfriend."

"Muggle?" Peter quipped, looking worried all of a sudden.

Their mother slowly nodded her head. "He knows about our, well, _magic_ ," she explained. She nervously laughed once more and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "Accidentally caught me doing it, really, but he's very understanding about it. Unlike your—"

She swallowed down her remaining words, but they both knew who their mother was talking about.

"Oh," Hermione quickly said, feeling quite uncomfortable. "Okay, Mum."

Anya's eyes widened. "Okay?"

The younger witch knitted her eyebrows. "Yes," she deliberately enunciated.

"I was expecting a different answer actually," her mother confessed with a nervous smile. "After everything that had happened with your—" Again, she couldn't bring herself to voice out the bastard who was already buried six feet under.

"Mum," Peter sighed, "you thought we'd be against this?"

"Well—"

"Blimey, Mum, we just want you to be happy," Hermione pointed out with a disbelieving laugh. "If you want to date someone, then we'll support you wholeheartedly."

Anya's eyes watered as she looked from her daughter to Peter, who was vigorously nodding his head to agree with his sister. "Oh, I have the best children in this world," she said, reaching out to grasp both of their hands.

Peter laughed and squeezed her hand. "I was actually expecting something worse, but having a new boyfriend wasn't something I'd thought of," he pointed out.

"Unlike somebody dying," Hermione said with a teasing smirk.

He blushed. "Shut up, Hermione."

* * *

**September 1, 1974**

Anya hugged them both goodbye before Peter and Hermione climbed onto the Hogwarts Express. Peter also bid her goodbye, but Hermione latched onto his arm before he could get away.

"Is there something you need, 'Mione?" her brother asked with worry in his eyes.

"I just want to remind you before you go off and start doing stupid shenanigans with your friends, that you should start taking your studies very seriously this year, Peter," Hermione insisted.

He looked at her with a bemused smile. "Merlin, Hermione! We haven't reached Hogwarts yet and now you're preaching how to become a swot like you," he joked.

But Hermione was vigorously shaking her head. "No, you don't understand, Peter," she interjected. "You'll soon have your OWLs and I know how you desperately want to become an Auror. You do know that their selection process is very stringent, right? They will not even consider you if they see you have a grade lower than 'A' in your OWLs."

Peter's eyes had widened. "Really?" he gasped, clearly in disbelief.

"Oh, _bloody hell_ , you don't _know_ ," she grumbled with a sigh.

When Peter paled and started to look panicky, Hermione appeased him by squeezing his arm. "Don't worry, I already have a plan because I knew you'd be like this," she said.

Curiosity replaced his panic. "A plan?" he asked with a frown.

"Yes," she said with a firm nod. "I've made you a study schedule for this year and we can study together so if you have questions or if you—"

Peter's eyes widened before he burst into loud, boisterous laughing. "Merlin Almighty, Hermione," he said, tears already forming at the corner of his eyes.

Her words died down as she looked at her brother in confusion. "What?" she demanded, confused.

"I knew you were an unbelievable swot but _holy shite_ ," he snorted.

She ignored his language and glared, clearly annoyed at being laughed at. "What?" she reiterated, this time through gritted teeth.

"Nothing, nothing," he said, humour still in his eyes. " _Fine_ , good Godric. Since you've already made an elaborate plan to help me pass my OWLs – which, mind you, is _two years_ from now – then I really can't stop you now, can I?"

Hermione grumbled under her breath. "A little thank you would suffice," she muttered.

Instead, Peter laughingly pulled her into a warm hug. "Please don't ever change, Hermione Pettigrew," he said, before letting her go and searching for his best friends.

* * *

**September 2, 1974**

James just had an earth-shattering revelation today that had him reeling.

He went through his day mechanically; like his whole body belonged to someone else and he was merely speculating the events going on around him. The lessons for today hadn't even registered in his mind but… but that didn't matter today, because he had just had an _earth-shattering_ revelation and he couldn't properly breathe.

It had all started when they arrived at Hogwarts and attended the Welcoming Feast. Normally, he would have been excited about the Sorting because new Gryffindors were going to join their table. But after going through this ceremony for four years, its novelty had faded and James found himself bored beyond belief. He tried to suggest to his friends to skip the Feast all together and go to the Shrieking Shack to practice their Animagi, but, to his disgruntlement, all of his friends had wanted to stay for the Feast.

Sirius confidently declared that this year, he was a Merlin's gift to all witchkind and had been flirting unabashedly with Marlene McKinnon since he'd laid eyes on her. Remus looked tired to the bone and upon double-checking his calendar, he noted that the full moon was only two days from now. Peter seemed bloody determined to _study_ all of a sudden and firmly told them that he might start focusing more with his academics this year.

' _Bloody wankers,'_ James had thought by then, and started to lazily look around the Great Hall just to keep him busy. Surprisingly, his eyes landed on the Ravenclaw table – specifically, where Peter's sister sat. His nose twitched with the memory of her spell and unwittingly, he blushed and glowered at her bushy hair. _Merlin_ , she was a menace and James had wondered ever since how she was related to Peter, who had been docile and let him get away with anything he wanted.

He rubbed the tip of his nose, remembering the Bat-Boogeys swarming all over his face. Everybody in school now knew the feisty second year – now third – threw a mean Bat-Boogey hex. They'd been pestering him incessantly about how it felt like, if he felt like he was going to _die_ , but James scared them off with a growl. It had been bloody embarrassing he'd been bested by a girl and he'd rather not relieve that experience ever again.

Although he had his payback last year, it almost didn't seem enough. But of course, since she was the little sister of one of his best mates, he had no choice but to steer clear. She was _off limits_. He just had to work extra harder this year not to get under her skin.

 _Merlin_ , she was truly terrifying that day.

Lightly shivering, he glanced at the person sitting beside her and scowled. Snivellus was talking quietly to the brunette, perhaps something about school work and such. Surprisingly, his hair didn't look lanky and greasy, like how he'd always worn his hair. Perhaps, the stupid Slytherin actually washed his hair after all.

His scowl deepened, remembering that annoying feeling in his heart he now knew as _guilt_ that had appeared after he'd vanished his potion. How could he have known it was that hard to brew? He should have told him in the first place!

' _They tried telling you to give it back, idiot,'_ a voice hissed inside his head that strangely sounded like Remus.

James flinched and trampled down that gnawing guilt once more. Looking at the stupid Slytherin always brought out irrational anger in him and although he knew he always acted like an idiotic bully every time Snape was in the vicinity, well, he couldn't stop himself. It didn't help that Sirius hated the slimy bastard, too. Once Sirius started goading him, James couldn't help but join in. Seeing Snape all riled up was terribly fun, after all.

He then tore his gaze away and looked at the other person of their strange trio. Lily Evans' hair was as fiery as a wild flame today. He never really thought about her that much, but he found himself glancing at her every time she walked into the room. Her vibrant red hair commanded attention and, _well_ , he just had to look for himself.

Hermione was whispering something under her breath and Lily suddenly threw her head back and laughed with abandon. The corners of her eyes crinkled and she tried her hardest to muffle her laugh but was obviously failing. Peter's sister was also grinning, and Lily had to hold on to her arm to keep herself from toppling over.

And then… and then he saw her bright, emerald eyes, glittering with humour and James was brought back to their last Astronomy Class in third year, when they all watched as numerous shooting stars darted across the black sky. James remembered being mesmerized by the beautiful show.

And now, _now_ , he couldn't look away because Lily Evan's eyes were like shooting stars. It was as if a sudden fog was lifted from his mind and his breath hitched, disbelieving at his sudden revelation.

Bloody _fucking_ hell, Lily Evans was breath-taking.

* * *

**September 8, 1974**

"May I ask why you're dragging our arses at such an ungodly time of the day?" a grumpy Severus asked, pulling out his chair in their usual library table and plopping unceremoniously onto it.

"It's not ungodly," Hermione hotly shot back, pointedly ignoring how Lily gave her a withering glare after breaking into her umpteenth yawn. "It's seven in the morning."

"On a _Sunday_ , Hermione Pettigrew," Lily grumbled.

Hermione coloured and thought that perhaps she really had been too eager to invite them over in the library. "You could have ditched me if you're going to complain all day," she retorted in return. To her surprise, Lily and Sev exclaimed identical snorts.

"And face your ire?" the Slytherin sneered.

"We're not going to take any chances," Lily said with a solemn nod.

Her cheeks darkened. "My temper's not _that_ explosive," she whined. Hermione prided herself that she could always keep a levelled head when faced with adversaries. She wasn't hailed as the brightest witch of her age for nothing, after all. If there was someone who had an explosive temper, it would be _Ron_ – what with his emotional range of a teaspoon – or _Harry_ – recalling all the terrible tantrums he threw during their teenage years.

Severus merely rolled his eyes and frowned at her. "Why are we here again?" he asked.

Hermione composed herself, still terribly offended by their insinuation about her temper, before choosing to drop it completely. They had other important matters to talk about.

She then grabbed onto her bag and pulled out colour-coded parchments and passed them to both Lily and Sev.

"What are these?" Lily gasped, eyes widening as she browsed through the parchments. "Are these… _study schedules_?"

"Bloody hell," Severus murmured.

"Your OWLs are next year," Hermione explained. "And I just thought… _well_ , I know you're both still fourth years, so you have at least two more years to prepare for your OWLS. But, it won't hurt if you start studying now. After all, the topics for OWLs will cover your lessons from first year to the first semester of your fifth. I, for one, do not believe that you can cram reviewing these lessons into one semester."

Lily was still gaping at Hermione, before she snapped her gaze to Severus. "I'm not as barmy as Hermione when it comes to studying, right?" she cried with horrified eyes.

"Hey!" she exclaimed in a whisper, craning her neck to look over at Madame Pince. Thankfully, the librarian was busy reprimanding another early-rising student than to bother with the three of them.

"No, _no_ , this is a whole different level of craziness, _holy shite_ ," Severus said, sputtering out disbelieving snickers.

"I'm not crazy," she hotly whispered in protest. "I just… I just really love studying, so you know, I wanted my best friends to at least pass their OWLs with flying colours."

Lily expelled a humongous sigh and pulled Hermione into a comforting hug. "Merlin, Hermione, you're a blessing to us all. We know that, of course," the redhead said. "But maybe, _just_ maybe, I think you are too obsessed with studying. There are other things to focus on, like… like – right! You're in your third year now, so you can go to Hogsmeade and let loose and forget all about studying. Or, you know, you can attend Quidditch matches or swap gossips with your girlfriends in the Ravenclaw Tower. There's more to life than studying."

Hermione frowned. "You don't like my colour coded schedules," she bluntly pointed out.

"No, Merlin, no!" Lily interjected, tightly hugging the parchment against her chest to prove her point. "I'm just saying that I don't understand why you are so _obsessed_ with studying. You're as crazy as Sev when he's obsessing over brewing the perfect potion."

"Why is this suddenly about me?" the Slytherin drawled with a flourished eye roll.

"All I am saying is that I'm sure no one is going to attempt besting you in your studies because they already know that they can't," Lily continued with a kind smile. "You have to start enjoying things outside studying for now, Hermione."

The brunette took a shaky breath, disbelieving how Lily's honest words had slapped her hard across her cheek.

She knew she had been a tad loony over studying ever since she had come to Hogwarts. Even in her past life, she could get carried away and would forget about herself until Harry and Ron snapped her back into reality. But in this lifetime, she had nothing else to do but to _study_. There were no crazy adventures that almost cost her life, or saving stupid best friends from their stupid fate.

Hermione briefly closed her eyes and finally became honest with herself.

The reason why she'd been obsessing over her studies for the past few years was because if she had too much fun in this lifetime, she'd inevitably come to love this world.

Then, once the horrors of the future unravelled, it would be too hard for her to look away.

"Hermione?" Lily asked, tone hesitant.

She opened her eyes and blinked a few times, noting that even Severus looked concerned with her sudden silence. "Okay," she then said with a small smile.

It warmed her heart how Lily looked terribly relieved. "Yeah?" she asked, still dubious.

Hermione mutely nodded her head.

Lily beamed brightly and pulled her into another hug. "For the record, I really do appreciate how you're fussing over our studies," she added. "I think it's really sweet. So, we'll try to stick to your schedule and make some tweaks along the way to just, you know, chill or something."

"We will?" Severus asked with a wrinkled nose.

"Yes, we will," Lily said, throwing him a withering glare. "Hermione worked hard on these after all."

"I may have gone a bit overboard with the scheduling, just so you know," Hermione said with a sheepish smile.

The Gryffindor redhead laughed. "We figured as much," she said, her emerald eyes twinkling.

"I'm sorry I get so overbearing sometimes," the brunette said. "It's a… _well_ , a sickness I've been trying to get rid of for years."

The Slytherin snorted but did not grace her with any reply.

"We all have our faults," Lily said, waving her hand dismissively. "Anyway, now that we're in the library, I think I'll start doing my Transfiguration essay." She started pulling her things out of her bag and piling them on the table, but paused when Severus suddenly grabbed onto her Muggle notebook.

"What the hell is that?" he asked, waving it around.

"It's a _notebook_ ," she explained, rolling her eyes. "Honestly, I don't understand why the Wizarding World still opts to use parchment for everything. Notebooks are actually really handy for taking down notes."

"Agreed," Hermione said with a firm nod.

"No, no, not that," he snapped. "I know what a notebook is. I'm talking about _that_."

He then pointed at the design on her notebook, pointing at the faces of four boys Hermione instantly recognised.

"The Beatles?" the brunette asked, her blue eyes widening in surprise.

"You know them?" Lily asked excitedly. When Hermione nodded her head, she beamed. "They have the best music, I tell you."

Hermione remembered the days when her father – her _previous_ father – would play old tunes during a lazy Sunday afternoon. They usually consisted of the songs from one of his favourite bands, The Beatles, so Hermione could immediately recognise them with a single glance.

"Why are Muggles so obsessed over these frivolous things?" he said with disgust, placing her notebook back on the table.

"I'm a Half-blood but I know they have decent songs," Hermione pointed out, noting Lily's disgruntlement. "They do have nice songs, Sev."

He rolled his eyes and waved them away, now perusing in his own backpack to pull out his own supplies.

"Oh, right, it's a Hogsmeade weekend next week," Lily then said. "You have to come, Hermione. We'll give you a tour."

Hermione smiled. "I think I'd like that."

* * *

**September 14, 1974**

"Welcome to Hogsmeade, Hermione Pettigrew."

Hermione laughed when Lily made a funny little twirl, while Severus heaved an exhausted sigh. "Evans, honestly," the sour Slytherin muttered and started trekking towards Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop.

"I thought we were going to the Three Broomsticks," Lily pointed out with a frown, but Severus merely waved her off and continued his journey towards the quill shop.

"I need some new quills too," Hermione quipped, quickly jogging towards Severus to catch up with him. Lily then had no choice but to follow her best friends inside.

The brunette couldn't help but smile at how nothing had changed in this shop. It was still terribly disappointing how there wasn't a proper bookshop in this small town, but Hermione had frequented Scrivenshaft's in the past because this was the closest she could get for her coveted bookstore. Numerous quills from various animals were proudly displayed on different wooden shelves. At the far left of the store, the ink wells of numerous shades were found. Rolls of parchments were hanging neatly above the counter.

The three students broke apart to gather their respective school supplies. By the time they met each other at the door, Hermione's hands were already full with her new studying tools.

"Three Broomsticks?" Lily offered.

"One more stop," Severus murmured, passing by the disappointed witch.

"Come on, Lils," Hermione smiled, hooking her arm with the redhead and dragging her out of the shop.

The brunette smiled widely at how beautiful Hogsmeade was in the fall. The uneven pathway was already covered with dried leaves of brown and orange and gold, happily crunching underneath their boots. There was already a chill in the air and Hermione was thankful she was able to don her thick, woollen, powder blue sweater to protect her from the cold.

It was refreshing to see Hogsmeade like this once more, and Hermione briefly closed her eyes, trying to imprint this vision in her mind forevermore.

Her eyes flew open when Lily tugged her arm. When she questioningly looked at the older witch, Lily pointed at a familiar withered structure. The Shrieking Shack looked less dilapidated but still terribly ominous. She figured Remus and his friends had maintained the place since they usually frequented it.

"That's the Shrieking Shack," Lily whispered fearfully under her breath. "Rumour has it its haunted."

Hermione glanced at Lily with a dubious smile. " _Hogwarts_ is haunted to, you know, what with all the ghosts and poltergeists," she jokingly pointed out. Severus released a short laugh that made Lily glower at his back.

"You know what I mean," the blushing Gryffindor insisted.

"You still believe in that shite?" Severus asked, turning his head to look over his shoulder. "Some Gryffindor you are."

"No, I don't," Lily exclaimed, affronted. "It's just, I haven't really seen anyone go inside it, even in broad daylight. So, sometimes I _do_ wonder what's inside."

Hermione bit back a grin, remembering how it had looked inside. "Some townspeople claim to hear howling at night, though," the brunette offered. "I heard Michelle and the others talking about it last night."

"Michelle?" Lily asked, knitting her eyebrows.

"Michelle Corner," she answered.

"Who?"

Hermione laughed. "They're my housemates, in my year," the brunette said.

"So, you do have friends in your own House," Severus said with a smirk on his face. He fell a few paces back so that both Hermione and Lily could catch up with him. "I always wondered why you hang out with us when you're a year younger than us. The only logical answer I can think of is that you have no friends at all."

"I have friends," Hermione hotly shot back, her cheeks warming at his words. "There's Dorothy, Michelle, and Alex."

"Who?" Lily echoed.

The brunette sighed. "Never mind that," she said.

Severus smirked at her disgruntled expression, but did not say anything anymore.

The Slytherin soon brought them into Honeydukes and proceeded to disappear before Hermione could even cross the threshold.

"The sourpuss loves sweets," Lily explained, laughing at her confused expression. "It's his _fuel_ , so to speak. Leave him in Honeydukes unsupervised and he can actually spend his yearlong allowance until his teeth rot."

"That's not very healthy," Hermione said, wrinkling her nose.

The redhead merely shrugged and happily pulled Hermione towards the stacks of Chocolate Frogs. Lily grabbed a handful of said chocolate and offered some to Hermione. But the younger witch shook her head, much to Lily's surprise.

"I still have a few back at my dorm from Peter," she explained.

"But, Hermione, these are _Chocolate Frogs_ ," Lily insisted. "They're the best chocolates in the Wizarding World. You can never have enough."

Hermione laughed. "I'm not really fond of chocolate," she said with an apologetic smile. "I'm more of a toffee kind of girl."

"Well, more for me then," Lily sighed, before pulling Hermione towards the small drawer full of toffees for Hermione. The brunette eagerly scooped a few and hesitated to get another heap for herself. Peter's toffee payment during her first year was already dwindling, and Hermione wondered if it would be all right for her to stack up some more.

"Oh, Hermione," the redhead laughed, grabbing a handful of toffees and depositing them on Hermione's palm. "It's all right. No one's going to _Avada_ you for loving toffees so much."

She sheepishly smiled and remembered her dentist parents – who were technically not her parents anymore – and how they'd have an aneurysm just by looking at Hermione's toffees. Convinced that it wouldn't hurt to buy a few more, Hermione grabbed another handful before bringing them over to the counter.

Lily and Hermione hovered near the door and searched for their Slytherin friend. Maybe ten more minutes passed by, before Lily looked at Hermione and asked, "Do you reckon we should start searching for him?" She looked so comically worried that Hermione couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," she reassured.

Another five more minutes passed before they finally saw Severus. Hermione's eyes widened at the towering sweets in his arms—different kinds of candies hugged tightly against his chest—that could maybe last him until he graduated from Hogwarts.

"What the—"

"I didn't exaggerate when I said Sev loves sweets," Lily sighed. "Wait for us here, Hermione." She passed her paper bag to Hermione to hold and stomped towards the Slytherin.

Hermione watched in amusement as Lily berated him for buying too much given his budget _and_ his teeth, warning him that his teeth would all one day rot because of his ridiculous obsession with sweets. Severus snarled his retorts in return, reasoning that he had saved enough for his Honeydukes treats, but Lily was having none of it. She tried to wrestle some liquorice wands from his hand and a few boxes of Bertie Botts before she was satisfied with his supply.

Lily was now ranting at the equally amused shop owner, telling him that they shouldn't introduce new candies yearly because they'd find themselves sold out immediately. While Lily was preoccupied with her ranting, the redhead was unable to see the soft look Severus was throwing her way.

But Hermione did, and it unsettled her deeply how there was earnest admiration in Severus's dark eyes.

Sometimes, she remembered Harry's story about how Severus Snape did everything he could just to protect _him_ from Voldemort, all because he loved Lily Potter very much. It was laughable, because they grew up being terrorised by their Potions Master. He was ridiculously horrible at trying to show his protection for The-Boy-Who-Lived then, if Harry was speaking the truth.

She never really thought about their relationship in the past. All she saw was her same friendship with Harry and Ron, so she thought it was all just some stupid excuse to make Snape redeemable in her eyes. But recently, when Hermione found herself tired from reading and tried to rest her eyes by looking around the library, she'd see how Severus would look at an oblivious Lily and it was… it was beautiful. How his gaze spoke of his deep affection for the redhead, looking at her as if she was the sun that warmed his dark stormy nights.

Hermione knew Lily was obviously oblivious of the Slytherin's feelings for her. Lily acted as usual, like the jolly chatterbox she'd always been, and treated Sev like how she treated Hermione. The brunette didn't know how Severus felt about that, and sometimes wondered if she should urge him to start making a move just to relieve him from his misery – _her_ misery, too, really, because it was getting annoying how he was pining over the redhead.

She'd thought they would make a wonderful pair, after all. Severus was always a sourpuss – Lily never got tired of pointing that out every day – and he really needed someone that could bring out the smile on his face. And although Lily was bright, she was a bloody true Gryffindor – reckless and brave and hot-tempered. Lily needed someone that could keep her grounded, but still challenged enough.

And Merlin, _dear_ Merlin, Severus and Lily suited each other very much.

This disturbed Hermione infinitely because Lily _belonged_ to James Potter. Without a Lily Potter, there would be no Harry Potter. And Hermione couldn't let that happen. Harry Potter should live, no matter how different he would treat her because she couldn't really become his best friend now.

Hermione tore her eyes away from the glowing pair with pained eyes, silently apologising to Severus for the inevitable future when he would nurse a broken heart.

"Three Broomsticks?" Lily then asked as she and Severus approached Hermione.

"Fine," Severus gruffly said.

Lily beamed brightly and hooked her arm with Hermione. As the older witch pulled the Ravenclaw out of Honeydukes, Hermione briefly shot a glance at Severus and noticed the warmth in his gaze once more. He seemed to sense Hermione's gaze, for he shifted his eyes to look at her. Upon seeing Hermione's frown, he quickly looked away, but not before Hermione noticed the redness of his cheeks.

**-ooo-**

Lily shrieked as Hermione instinctively pulled her away from the sudden explosion.

The trio stopped in their tracks and stared in horror at the thick smoke escaping from the Three Broomsticks.

"What the—" Severus murmured, but his words were drowned by the sudden screams erupting from inside. Lily and Hermione immediately took a few steps back as raucous shouts, mixed with boisterous laughter, grew louder.

The brunette's eyes widened when Peter suddenly tumbled out, landing quite painfully on his chest. He was quickly followed by a disgruntled Remus, but the gleaming humour in his golden eyes was unmistakable. Following him was James Potter, his glasses askew and half of his robe singed with a few embers still glinting at the hem. He was merrily laughing, tears streaming down from his hazel eyes, and was unable to notice that he was still slightly on fire. Peter quickly blew the flames away and grinned widely at him.

"Rosmerta, dearest, I swear, I _swear_ it was an accident!" Sirius hollered, shooting out from the pub and quickly hiding behind his hysterical best friend. Madame Rosmerta, still quite young and very stunning, stomped out from the Three Broomsticks with murder in her glittering violet eyes. She was pointing her wand at Sirius, trying to growl a hex, but with James blocking him, she was unable to do so.

"You boys always bring trouble when you're in here!" she shrieked, now angrily shaking her wand around. James had to scoot his head away to keep the end of her wand from poking out his eye. "One more. _One more_ , and you will be banned from coming here forever!"

"Come now, Rosmerta. _Rosie_ ," Sirius appeased. The barmaid did not appreciate his nickname and growled in return. "Sorry, sorry, we didn't really mean it."

Rosmerta's eyes glinted dangerously. "Lie again and I'm going to hex your tongue off, Sirius Black," she threatened.

James's laughs had died down by then, and even Sirius paled at the threat. The Black heir then slowly raised both of his hands to gesture his surrender.

With one last mighty glare, she hissed at the pranksters and turned around.

"But you will still marry me once I graduate, right, Rosie dear?" Sirius hopefully asked. Remus shushed him loudly and hit him against his ribs, effectively shutting him up.

Instead of answering Sirius, she exclaimed a loud _'Reparo'_ at her door and stomped inside, loudly shutting the door behind her back. Her actions rattled the walls so much it made the Gryffindor boys flinch.

It was Peter who first broke the silence. "Well… it was worth it though, yeah?" He was grinning like a bloody fool.

James burst into uncontrollable laughter once again and doubled over. "Bloody fucking worth it," he managed to wheeze through his laughing.

"What the hell was that?" Lily then demanded, lightly glaring at the boys.

They then realised that the trio standing to the side had watched the whole debacle.

"Hermione!" her brother greeted.

The brunette, despite her curiosity about their prank, smiled. "Hello, brother," she replied. "What was that all about?"

"Never mind that now, kitten," Sirius said, shooting her a huge grin. "How's your first time in Hogsmeade? I hope you've been well."

"I'm not entirely sure why you're interested," Hermione said, scrunching her nose.

The corner of Remus' lips twitched when Sirius dramatically placed a hand against his heart. "Wow, ouch, Hermione," he scoffed. "I'm just trying to be nice to my best mate's little sister."

Before Hermione could answer, James Potter was suddenly stumbling forward, his cheeks blazing red. He ran a hand through his hair and glanced down at Lily. "Evans, hi. Having fun?" he asked, attempting to throw a lazy smirk her way that only made him look ridiculous, since half of his robe was burnt by whatever prank they had pulled inside the pub.

Lily made a face. "What's it to you, Potter?" she harrumphed, turning away and pulling Hermione into the pub. Severus sneered at the Gryffindors and closely followed behind.

Hermione, however, was surprised with James' sudden change in attitude. She craned her neck and found him still stupidly grinning at Lily's back.

' _Huh,'_ she thought, blinking her eyes. _'Well, things are starting to get interesting.'_

* * *

**November 26, 1974**

The fire in the common room was already burning low, but none of the four Gryffindors stood up from their seats.

James lazily pulled out his golden snitch and started tossing it in the air, his hazel eyes gazing unseeingly at the licking fire. His mind was elsewhere, thinking distractedly about what would happen during the full moon two days from now. Remus looked worse for wear, and was absolutely cranky; the other three had been walking on eggshells around him lest the werewolf suddenly burst into a raging tantrum. Although Remus was the best of them, and people did say he was the kindest amongst his friends, his temper fuelled by werewolf blood was something else entirely.

They still hadn't perfected their Animagi forms. He was quite good with Transfiguration – dare he say it, he was one of the best – but transforming into an Animagus was mighty time consuming. The first time Sirius had suggested they become one to keep Remus company during the full moon, James was admittedly ecstatic. But when Remus pointed out how bothersome the steps would be just to become one, James started having doubts.

The ingredients to brew the potion weren't hard to find, especially as there were two Pureblood heirs among the group. The process, however, was almost ridiculous, but they pushed through nonetheless. They had to repeat certain steps, like placing a Mandrake leaf inside their mouth for _a month_ because Peter sometimes swallowed it down when he was eating, or Sirius would spit it out in his sleep.

Despite the numerous failures, they continued. They still had to wait for the next thunderstorm to rage over Hogwarts to complete the ritual, and James was hoping it would happen before the full moon.

"What the bloody hell is this?" Sirius suddenly barked.

James blearily blinked his eyes and looked over at the Black heir. Sirius was waving pieces of parchment with multicolored, highlighted words. James lifted an eyebrow and looked at Peter, who turned a light shade of pink.

"Err…" he sheepishly started, "it's a colour-coded schedule made by my sister. She insists that I should start studying for my OWLs."

Remus glanced up from his Herbology textbook and lightly smiled. "She isn't entirely wrong, you know," he pointed out.

James snorted and pocketed his golden snitch. "We're still bloody _fourth years_ ," he complained. "We have another year before we worry about OWLs."

"Hermione's persistent," Peter said with an exasperated sigh. "Said that if I wanted to become an Auror, I should start working harder for my OWLs."

"She isn't entirely wrong about that either," Remus crankily murmured under his breath, prompting Peter to glare in his direction.

"I can't believe your sister's such a swot," Sirius laughed, tossing the colour-coded parchments back inside Peter's backpack. "Here I thought Remus was already a swot, but Merlin Almighty, your sister's an entirely different level of swottiness."

The sandy-haired boy shrugged. "Hermione loves to study," he explained. "Mum tried to push her to discover other hobbies when we were younger, but we always found her reading a new novel or something." A fond smile appeared on Peter's face that was not left unnoticed by the other three.

"And I also can't believe _you_ are related to her," James pointed out with a wide grin. "Maybe she sucked out all the brains in your family and didn't leave any for you."

"Hey!" Peter cried, affronted.

"You're not really going to stick with this bloody schedule, are you?" the Black heir asked, comfortably shifting on the couch to lay his head on Remus' lap. The werewolf emitted a low growl at the back of his throat and tried to push the obnoxious boy away, but Sirius merely snuggled deeper until Remus relented.

"Hermione can be _really_ persistent," Peter interjected. "And you know how she gets with that temper of hers…" He trailed off and meaningfully looked at James, unabashedly pointing at his nose.

James, in retaliation, gave him a tight, false smile and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his middle finger. Peter merely grinned, unfazed.

"Anyway," Sirius said, sitting up on the couch once more with an excited glint in his eyes. "Have you guys thought about my prank proposal for tomorrow?"

"Pass," Remus murmured without skipping a beat.

"Aw, come on, Remus!" the Black heir whined.

The werewolf glared at him out of the corner of his eyes. "If you must know, Black, the full moon is coming up so I'm not up for some stupid pranking right now," he growled.

"I hate Cranky Remus the most," Sirius sighed. He then directed his silver eyes at the sandy-haired boy. "Petey?"

"Sorry, I promised Hermione I'd study with her in the library tomorrow," he answered with an apologetic smile.

Sirius was starting to look exasperated. "Jamesy?" he asked, bordering pleading. "Please, mate, you're my only hope."

"Sorry, Sirius m'boy," the bespectacled Gryffindor said. "I have Quidditch practice tomorrow and with the upcoming match against Slytherin approaching, I can't really ditch it."

The Black heir groaned and fell back into Remus' lap. "You guys are no fun at all," he pointed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all those who commented, bookmarked, and gave kudos for this story! 
> 
> Quick reminder that this is still a James/Hermione fic. I've planned everything so I can't really change the pairing now. But of course some drama will be fun. Don't you think? :)
> 
> That's it for now! Next chapter is still set in Hermione's third year.
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr! (kimmy-writes.tumblr.com). I've recently posted fancasts for the characters in this story so if you're curious, go check it out. Just press the 'Hero of the Story' button on my sidebar. I've also made a spotify playlist compiling all the songs I'll use in the chapter titles. Go check it out too on my tumblr. This story's been taking over my life currently so forgive me if I do a lot of things for this story other than writing it lmao.


	8. chapter seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, would you look at that! I updated in less than 24 hours. I just recently found out we'll start our medical internship in August, so I understandably freaked out because I haven't started studying yet so good luck to me. Although I love this story so much right now, this hobby of mine won't pay any bills so I wanted to finish this as soon as possible to avoid any distractions.

* * *

**vii.**

_**i'll teach you everything i know** _

(Light by Sleeping at Last)

* * *

**November 27, 1974**

"Merlin, I was afraid you'd ditch me today!" was Hermione's soft greeting upon seeing Peter entering the library.

Her brother skidded to a halt when he saw her company. Unwittingly, his blue eyes narrowed at the back of Severus's head. As if sensing his hostile gaze, her Slytherin best friend turned around and sneered at him.

"What is he doing here?" he snapped, glancing over at Hermione to glare at her.

"He's my _brother_ ," she reminded, unbothered by his ire. "And I wanted to help him with his studies, so I invited him."

Severus lifted his chin and with a polished wave, all of his things were neatly placed inside his bag. He then stood up from his seat and shouldered the strap of his bag.

"Sev, come on…"

"I'd rather die than study with pompous gits like _him_ ," he harshly muttered. Hermione's eyes widened at how he swivelled around with practiced flourish, reminiscent of her Potions master in her previous lifetime.

"Melodramatic berk," she murmured under her breath once Severus was gone. She then turned to Peter and awkwardly smiled. "Sorry about that."

Peter shrugged. "Good riddance, I guess," he said.

"Peter!"

He sheepishly smiled and slid on the chair opposite Hermione. "You and I both know we don't really like each other, Hermione," he pointed out. "Why bother acting civil?"

"Because it's what a normal, _decent_ person does?" she offered.

Peter merely rolled his eyes and started piling his things onto the table.

"What are you going to study today?" she asked, glancing at the colour-coded schedule she had prepared for her brother.

"Herbology, I think," he said, grabbing onto said parchment and scanning it for the schedule for today. "Yes, it says second year Herbology."

Peter started to study the syllabus from their second year Herbology. Hermione lightly smiled at how he struggled with remembering basic details and how he repeated it again and again under his breath to memorise it. She remembered how her favourite professor, Professor McGonagall, once pointed out that Peter Pettigrew wasn't up to par with his friends' intelligence and skills. Peter wasn't exactly _that_ dull. He just didn't really care too much about studying. But unlike James, who was amazingly gifted with Transfiguration and Charms, or Sirius who was especially talented in Defence Against the Dark Arts, Peter did not really have something he was good at. _Well,_ maybe there was skateboarding, but of course that wasn't something he could use for his future career.

It warmed her heart how he was now trying, though. Harry and Ron never listened to her when she insisted that they should start studying if they wanted to become Aurors in the future, claiming they have a bloody shining reputation that would land them into their dream jobs. Bloody naïve, those berks were – but Peter was earnestly trying his best, wanting to prove to everybody that he was as talented as his best friends.

Thus, Hermione was patient with him when her brother asked about things he couldn't understand. Thankfully, they were tackling second year Herbology, which Hermione had gone through already, so it wasn't questionable how she knew about these things.

"You know, you can discover which study habits work best for you," Hermione suggested when Peter grew frustrated once more upon failing to memorise the properties of a magical plant. "Like, for example, I jot down notes and rewrite important information to help me with memorising."

Peter sighed in exhaustion and let his forehead connect dully with the wooden table. "I'm hopeless, Hermione," he softly whined. "Why can't I be half as smart as you are? We're bloody _related_. Like is unfair."

"Maybe if you weren't busy wreaking havoc all over the school with your so-called friends, you'd have decent marks," she pointed out matter-of-factly.

His shoulders shook with his quiet laugh, before lifting his head and grinning at his sister. "Well, it's more fun wreaking havoc than slaving over school work," he reasoned out. He then rubbed his eyes and mightily stretched until he felt a pleasant crack from his back.

"You're already tired," she stated with a frown. "Why is that? You're not sleeping well, Petey?"

The Gryffindor grew quiet, eyes conflicted and she watched as he silently debated over an unknown problem.

"Hermione," he then started, "can you keep a secret?"

She blinked and worriedly gnawed her lower lip. "Depends," she deliberately said. "What will be the consequence if I let it out?"

"Twenty years imprisonment in Azkaban?" he nonchalantly offered.

When her eyes grew in horror, Peter chuckled and leaned forward. "My friends… well, we have had a _special_ project since second year," he started.

' _Oh,'_ Hermione thought, now realising his exhausted state. "Yeah?" she asked. "Special project about what?"

"It's… to help a _friend_ ," he insisted, now unable to meet her questioning gaze. "But we've been trying to become Animagi for years now."

He held his breath and waited for her to blow up. But Hermione, already knowing about this special project of theirs, merely narrowed her eyes and lowered her voice. "That's bloody illegal if you don't plan on getting registered after," she whispered.

"Which is why I told you, you should keep this a secret if you don't want your brother and his friends locked away in Azkaban for twenty years," he shot back.

"Why?" she asked, knowing that if she wasn't curious enough, her brother would grow suspicious with her lack of reaction.

Peter nervously rubbed the tip of his nose and frowned. "That… _well_ , I can't tell you the reason," he hastily stated. "But… it's not for anything heinous, Hermione. I promise you. I told you we're doing this for a good friend."

"Just don't get caught," she pointed out with a frown.

"Well, that's one of the goals," Peter said with a laugh. "Just, don't tell anybody, okay? Even Mum. I know she'd go ballistic if she discovered I'm spending my time turning into an Animagus, rather than studying diligently in school."

"Becoming an Animagus is terribly impractical," she pointed out.

Peter shook his head. "It may be, because it's not really the primary method chosen if you want to escape or conceal yourself," he said. "But, with our reason— it's the _best_ option, so we're willingly doing it."

Hermione sighed and threw him a withering glare. "Just don't get caught, for Merlin's sake," she grumbled.

He grinned and nodded his head, relieved that she was immediately accepting.

"Oh, hello."

Both Hermione and Peter looked up and saw a confused Lily Evans standing near their table.

"Hi, Lily," Peter said with a small, amicable smile, which she returned.

"I hope you don't mind if he studies with us today, Lils," Hermione said with a hesitant frown.

The redhead glanced over at the wizard and grew thoughtful for a while. Then, with a firm nod, she added, "Just as long as you don't become a toerag like Sirius and James, then it'll be fine."

Peter broke into a wide grin. "That I can do," he said.

Lily slid onto the chair besides Hermione, then paused. "Where's Sev?" she asked, looking around the library to search for their best friend.

The brunette snorted. "He said he'd rather die than study with pompous gits like him," she said, jutting her chin at a scowling Peter. "Verbatim, if you must know."

"Well, that's our sourpuss all right," Lily said with a smirk. She then started pulling out her things and when Peter saw her own copy of Hermione's colour-coded schedule, he snickered.

"She gave you one too?"

"Oh, you mean this?" Lily waved the pieces of the parchment in the air and grinned. "Your sister's bloody mental, but she means well."

"Hey, I'm right here, you know," Hermione snapped with a deep frown.

Lily laughed and merely hugged the brunette, proclaiming that she was a blessing to them all.

* * *

**March 24, 1975**

"Pass," Peter muttered without even looking up from the Potions book he was reading.

Sirius rounded on him, surprise written on his face. "What? _Again_ , Peter?" he cried, stomping towards the distracted boy and grasping onto his textbook. He then proceeded to throw it over his shoulders and managed to smack James on the chest.

"HEY!" the Potter heir cried, rubbing his smarting chest. "Watch it!"

"Yes, again," Peter sighed, sidestepping the boisterous boy and grabbing onto his Potions textbook. "Sorry, mates, but I can't go again this time."

Sirius turned around and stomped towards Peter, who was once again lost in the sea of words. "You haven't been spending enough time with us, Peter," Sirius accused. "You're even turning into… turning into _Remus_!" He threw a finger at his other best friend to make a point. Remus was also calmly browsing through his Transfiguration textbook, completely ignoring the ranting Gryffindor.

Peter sighed and looked up from the book he was reading. "I'm sorry," he claimed. "But Hermione's been a great help for the past few months. McGonagall stopped lecturing me for not taking my studies seriously. I'm starting to get _'A's_ in my essays, for Merlin's sake! Whatever method Hermione uses to teach me, it's bloody effective, because I'm actually getting decent grades."

A determined look crossed his features again as he looked down at his textbook. "If this is the only way for me to secure my future as an Auror, then I can't really stop doing it now, can I?" he grumbled.

"Ugh, then I don't want to become an Auror anymore if you're being like this!" Sirius exclaimed, dramatically throwing his arms into the air. "James, talk some sense into this idiot!"

The bespectacled Gryffindor paused playing catch with his golden snitch and frowned at the boy sitting beside him. "She's friends with Snivellus, you know," he pointed out, making a face. "And they study together all the time. How have you tolerated studying with him for the past few months?"

Sirius snorted and plopped down on the couch beside Peter. "Aren't you distracted by all the grease marks he leaves on his own parchment?" he asked, earning a snort from Remus on the other couch.

"They managed to make some arrangement," Peter said with a dismissive hand. "Apparently, Hermione's a popular study partner. Can you believe she also gave her best friends these colour-coded schedules too?"

"I can believe that," James murmured with a smirk.

"So, I don't really study with Snape," he continued. "Hermione tells me if he comes over and reschedules my studying sessions with her. But Lily sometimes drops by and studies with us. She's terribly bright, too, and has also helped me with some things I didn't understand."

From beside him, James suddenly perked up, his hazel eyes wide, bright and gleaming. "What did you say?" he asked, almost breathlessly.

Peter blinked at him in confusion. "That Lily drops by and studies with us?" he repeated.

"Yeah?" he asked, a wide grin breaking on his handsome face. "How often does she drop by?"

"Well, actually, _most_ of the time," Peter said. "Lily's very fond of my sister, if you must know." A soft chuckle escaped from his mouth as he recalled the fiery Gryffindor. "Terribly protective of her, too. They almost have the same temper too, so I guess hippogriffs of the same feather…" He trailed off and gave him a meaningful glance.

"Why are you suddenly interested?" Sirius asked with narrowed eyes.

James's cheeks flooded with colour. "I'm not," he exclaimed a little too quickly as he ran a hand through his hair and looked away from Sirius's glinting grey eyes.

Blessedly, Sirius turned his eyes away from his suddenly flustered best friend. "There's really no changing your mind, Petey?" he asked, now with an innocent smile on his face.

"Sirius…"

"Marley said she and Mary MacDonald became fast friends and wondered if she could come with us to Hogsmeade next time," the Black heir added nonchalantly. James smirked when Peter suddenly stiffened. "I haven't answered her yet, because you know, we don't really want anyone coming with us during Hogsmeade, right? I can always tell her that—"

"That's not fair, Sirius," Peter hotly cried, cheeks blazing.

Sirius snickered and threw up his hands. "Fine, fine, _Merlin_ ," he said with an exaggerated eye roll.

"Just let it go, mate," James said. "We still have plenty of time to pull off your elaborate pranks."

" _Fine_ ," the Black heir claimed, jumping onto his feet once again. "I'll be off looking for Marley now."

He waved his hand goodbye and left without looking back.

"I didn't know Sirius is now… err, _serious_ with Marlene," Remus quipped once he was out of sight.

James snorted. "I'm not sure if you'd call it _serious_ , but they've really hit it off," he said with a casual shrug. "Let Sirius have his fun. You know how he's being treated at home."

Peter wrinkled his nose. "I'm so glad I'm a half-blood," he said with a sigh. "Sirius got the shorter end of the stick, James, because your parents aren't as stuffy as his. Imagine if my mother, a bloody _Selwyn_ , wasn't disinherited by her family."

"You'd be heir of the Selwyn House, then," James pointed out with a laugh.

"And Hermione would have been taken care of like a proper Pureblood witch," he added with a snicker. "I don't think my sister would have liked that very much. She's like… she's like a—"

"Ferocious lioness?" the bespectacled wizard offered. When Peter and Remus simultaneously looked at him in amusement, he coloured and sheepishly smiled. "You know, with that impossibly bushy hair of hers, she could actually make a decent Gryffindor. Thank the bloody gods that didn't happen because _blimey_ , imagine spending your chill hours with Hermione Pettigrew in the common room."

Peter looked deeply affronted. "Hermione's not all that bad," he defended.

"Peter," Remus said with a humoured smile, "your sister's terrifying." James vigorously nodded his head to show his concurrence.

"I can't believe you grew up with her for _thirteen years_ ," the Potter heir reverently murmured, almost as if he was at awe and he respected Peter for undergoing such a difficult task in his life. "She'd never really tried that Bat-Boogey hex on you before?"

The sandy-haired boy smirked and looked back down at his book. "I'm not an arse to her," he said. "Unlike _someone_ I know…"

James leaned forward and smacked him on the underside of his head. "Wanker," he hissed, but Peter merely laughed.

* * *

**March 26, 1975**

"I'll be off," Peter said with a wave of his hand. "See you later."

Sirius distractedly nodded his head and instead concentrated on successfully throwing dung beetles into sixth year Frank Longbottom's robe pocket. Remus hummed his goodbye, eyes also trained at the dung beetles soaring into the air and grimacing when they missed their target.

James, however, waited until Peter was finally gone from the common room before suddenly standing up with a purpose.

"I'll be off to the library," he proclaimed.

Both Sirius and Remus whipped their heads towards James, identical confusion on their faces.

"The library?" Sirius asked. He absentmindedly flicked the crawling dung beetle on his arm and was unable to see how it soared into the air and managed to land successfully inside Frank Longbottom's robe pocket. "Why? We never go to the library."

" _You_ never go to the library," James corrected with an eye roll. "I sometimes do if I need to finish homework."

Sirius' eyes widened, as if he was seeing his best friend for the first time. "You do?" he gasped.

"Yes," James said with a sigh. "So, yeah, anyway, I have to go to the library."

" _Why_?" This time, it was Remus who asked.

James stopped himself from bristling in annoyance. "I have an essay to finish," he quickly said through gritted teeth.

Remus, ever perceptive, narrowed his eyes and slowly sat back down on the couch. "Essay?" he echoed, knitting his eyebrows in deep thought. "About what?"

"About Potions," he snapped, unable to swallow down his impatience. Upon seeing how Remus quirked his eyebrow at his attitude, James sighed. "I have trouble composing a paragraph about the properties of ginger root and its importance so I need more sources to research in the library."

"I can help you with that," Remus said with a deft shrug.

"Yeah, James, Remus can help you with that," Sirius piped in with a grin. "There's no need to haul your arse all the way to the library."

But James was already shaking his head and quickly walking away from his best friends lest they persistently suggest other things to keep him from going. "Don't bother, I'll just go search for it in the library," he called out over his shoulder and didn't wait to hear their reply. He quickly pushed open the portrait and briskly walked outside.

After making sure that Remus and Sirius weren't following him, James released a humongous sigh of relief and started his journey to the library.

It wasn't really because he was embarrassed about his new crush; Lily Evans was definitely pretty and he'd heard some of the boys in their House talk about her all the time. It was because he knew Sirius would mercilessly tease him with his newfound feelings for the Gryffindor even before he tested his theory. Although it was undeniable that he found her quite breathtaking, he still wasn't sure if this was merely a sort of admiration for her pretty eyes and fiery red hair or something else entirely.

It would be particularly harder to pursue Lily if ever he did really like her because of three things: 1. She hated him and thought of him as a toerag, 2. She was best friends with his arch-nemesis Snivellus Smelly Snape, and; 3. She was best friends with Hermione Pettigrew, who could throw a mean Bat-Boogey Hex if her life depended on it.

Still, the challenge of wooing the pretty redhead gave him a newfound purpose in life. He always loved challenges. He had been preoccupied with the Animagi transformation for years now, but since it was nearing its completion – and it looked like there would be no problems this time – James knew he had to start searching for his new quest. Lily Evan's heart seemed worthy to pursue, now that he properly thought about it.

When he finally arrived at the library, it wasn't too hard searching for his new lady love. Lily's hair was flaming red and bright and James had to blink a few times to let his eyes adjust at her sheer radiance.

Unwittingly, a huge beam appeared on his face when Lily giggled over something Hermione said, and was subsequently shushed by the equally amused brunette. Peter piped in another comment, which started Lily's giggles once more and James wondered if he'd ever be able to make Lily laugh like that.

Standing taller and more confident, James took a huge breath and sauntered towards their table.

It was Peter who first noticed him. The surprise in his eyes was evident, but a smile appeared on his face nonetheless. "James!" he greeted. "What are you doing here?"

Hermione's eyebrows flew up to her hairline while Lily narrowed her eyes in suspicion. James merely grinned and invited himself over, thrilled that the only empty seat on the table was across from Lily.

"I thought of finishing my homework in the library today," he casually greeted, throwing a smile he prayed was as handsome as he had pictured in his mind. Lily merely scrunched her nose and pointedly looked away from him.

"You never liked going to the library," Peter commented, surprised.

James shrugged his shoulders and started pulling out his things. "I needed to research more about my Potions essay," he flippantly reasoned out. His hazel eyes landed on the still surprised brunette and grinned. "I heard your tutoring sessions are very helpful, Hermione."

A calculating look settled on her face and truth be told, James started to grow a little uncomfortable. Although she shared the same eyes as Peter, there was always something _else_ about Hermione Pettigrew's clear, blue eyes. It was like they held knowledge so vast, so _deep_ , so – so mysterious, like the huge ocean that always seemed to hold darker secrets underneath. James still thought it was bewildering how such an enigmatic girl was related to someone as unpretentious as Peter. Besides her undoubted magical prowess—his nose still twitched uncomfortably every time he saw her—it felt like Hermione could pierce through his very soul and deftly browse through his thoughts like an open book, devouring all his thoughts up to her heart's content.

Realising he had been staring, James frowned and immediately looked away, secretly shaking the fog away from his mind after staring at Hermione for too long.

"Why are you really here?" she asked, suspicion thick in the tone of her voice.

"Like I said," he reiterated, "I needed to research more about my Potions essay." James congratulated himself for being prepared, as he pointed at his half-finished Potions essay on the Wit-Sharpening Potion for proof. "And maybe get some little help from you, oh great Hermione Pettigrew."

She didn't appreciate his teasing, but James grinned nonetheless.

Briefly, Hermione's eyes landed on Lily, who by then had resolutely ignored James's presence and had been religiously finishing a Transfiguration essay. Then, her blue eyes landed back on him, and for a moment, James wondered if _she_ knew about his newfound feelings for her best friend.

But Hermione did not give any indication for knowing as such. He'd been perfectly careful with his new secret crush for Lily Evans, already planning numerous outrageous ways to proclaim his undying love for her. Hermione, although bloody brilliant, couldn't possibly know.

"Which part are you having a hard time with?" she finally asked, expelling a sigh of resignation. She clearly didn't accept his excuse, but he came prepared with props for his deception, and she finally relented.

James' grin widened as he shoved the unfinished essay towards her. "I'm not really expecting you to give me an answer," he started as a disclaimer. "But maybe you know the reason why the potency of Wit-Sharpening potions solely depends on the ginger roots?"

Hermione made a face. "Weren't you listening in first year?" she asked as soon as he had finished his question.

"What?" James asked, confused. He noticed that Lily was trying to bite back a smirk but was unable to do so. Peter, however, seemed intrigued by James's question. No doubt he hadn't finished this essay either and was listening with rapt attention.

The younger witch sighed. "In first year, we were taught how more than the properties of the ingredients themselves, their way of preparation is very important as well," she elaborated. "For example, adding _thin slices_ of ginger roots to the potion will produce a different effect from _circular pieces_ of ginger roots. But, with some potions like the Wit-Sharpening potion, the desired effect will still be the same no matter how you prepare the ingredients. The difference would be with the level of potency."

James's eyes widened. "Oh, yes, right, of course," he floundered, cheeks reddening because he _knew_ that. "But, okay, if you say that preparation is important as well, why doesn't the effects change at all, regardless of whether you add strips or cubes of ginger roots?"

Hermione grabbed a spare parchment from her bag and listed down the correct steps in making a Wit-Sharpening potion, word for word. Both James and Peter gaped at Hermione, which she didn't seem to notice as she was too engrossed with her listing.

"To answer your question, the reason why the effect doesn't change at all, is because if you adhered to the instructions, technically, you'll still get the _same_ potion," she said, pointing to each of the steps to emphasise her point. "The reason why ginger roots are the most essential ingredient in changing the potency of Wit-Sharpening Potion is because it will depend on how you prepare them."

"What?" Peter asked with a deep frown, now massaging the bridge of his nose.

"Look," Hermione said, pointing at the first ingredient – armadillo bile. "Armadillo bile is already prepared as a concoction so it says that you just have to add it until the potion turns blue." Then, she pointed at the next ingredient. "The instructions also tell you to add _ground_ scarab beetles until the potion turns red. So, you grind the beetle, meaning you turn it into powder."

"So…?" James deliberately asked, undeniably enraptured by Hermione's explanation.

" _So_ , here, the instruction only said to cut the ginger roots before placing it into the cauldron," she continued. "But cut _how_? Into slices? Into cubes? Will cutting a circular piece suffice? Do you need at least half an inch? Or three-fourths? The inventor didn't bother with placing the exact instructions on how to do that because no matter the preparation, you'd still have a fully functioning Wit-Sharpening Potion. But, like any other ingredients, its preparation matters when you want to adjust its potency. This potion is an antidote for the Confundus Charm, right? So if for example you are in a battle, and your mate was hit by a powerful Confundus Charm that made him very impressionable to the point that he was almost like under the Imperius Curse, you would need a _very_ potent Wit-Sharpening potion that could cancel out its effects immediately. You can't just give him a different batch of the same potion, its ginger roots prepared differently, with its effects more gradual than immediate. Do you understand?"

James and Peter stared at Hermione in stunned silence, clear disbelief on their faces.

Hermione, confused as to why they were looking at her like that, slowly frowned. "What?" she asked.

Beside her, Lily stifled a laugh behind her hand. "I think you've managed to confound them with your brilliance, Hermione," she pointed out, highly amused. "Perhaps you have a potent Wit-Sharpening potion hidden inside your bag?"

The brunette snorted. "I wish," she murmured under her breath. Her blue eyes connected with James. "Did I answer your question?"

"Bloody _fucking_ hell," he swore. "How can you know all of this?"

"She's bloody brilliant," Lily and Peter uttered at the same time.

Hermione's cheeks reddened. "I just love to study," she reasoned out.

"No, _no_ , I understood what you said completely," James excitedly said, immediately jotting down her points on his Potions essay. "How can you even memorise the steps of making Wit-Sharpening Potion? You still haven't learned about that in third year!"

The Ravenclaw grew uncomfortable for a moment, before she cleared her throat and swiped her curls away from her face. "Err… I like to advance read," was her mere explanation.

James made a sound at the back of his throat for his answer. "I'm going to take my chances here but maybe you know what preparation of ginger roots would provide the most potent effect?" he asked.

Hermione grew thoughtful for a while as she started drumming her fingers on the wooden table. " _Well_ , I haven't brewed one before, so I can't be sure," she deliberately answered. " _But_ , if I were to make an educated guess, I think I'd go with circular pieces of ginger roots. Perhaps an inch in diameter would do."

"And why do you think that?" he followed up.

"Because you want to preserve its properties as much as possible," she explained matter-of-factly. "If you tried to slice it thinly, you might risk the chance of losing its juices and you don't want that. Slicing a circular piece means you only need to swipe with your knife once, so you can avoid pressing away too much juice."

James vigorously nodded his head and wrote down her suggestion.

"I mean, that's a _guess_ ," she pointed out quickly. "I didn't say it was right."

"Well, knowing you have a big brain, I'd say you just might be," James said with a laugh. This prompted Hermione's cheeks to turn into a lovely shade of red.

Peter looked triumphant. " _See_ , I did tell you Hermione's a brilliant tutor," he proclaimed. "My grades really got better this year because of her."

"Your determination to pass also helped, Peter," Hermione protested. "It's not all me." But Peter merely brushed her off with a wide grin on his face.

"Well, as much as it's lovely to witness you berks get singlehandedly blown away by Hermione's wonderful brain, I have to go," Lily then stated, pulling out her wand and magicking her things into her bag.

James's eyes widened, realising that he had spent his time in the library _studying_ instead of wooing Lily Evans. "What?" he asked before he could stop himself. "Already?"

Lily looked at him in confusion. "Yes, Potter, already," she shot back. The older witch then turned to Hermione and gave her a goodbye hug before bidding the other wizards goodbye and strolling away.

The bespectacled boy mentally berated himself for getting distracted from his primary goal. Now that his lady love wasn't there, he really didn't find any reason to stay in the library anymore. "I think I have to go, too," he said, disappointment thick in the tone of his voice. He ignored how Hermione quirked an eyebrow at his voice. "Thanks, Hermione. You've been a great help."

"Don't mention it," the younger witch said with a small smile on her face.

"I'll come with you," Peter said, hastily cramming his things inside his bag. "I forgot I have to meet with Professor Flitwick today."

Peter also gave Hermione a hug while James gave her a warm smile. Although he wasn't able to woo Lily Evans today, there were still plenty of days. Besides, it had been a productive day and he didn't think he had wasted too much time.

Before he could completely go, he halted in his steps and turned around. When Hermione lifted her head upon hearing her name, James asked, "Say, you don't mind if I drop by once in a while to study with you guys, do you?"

Hermione looked surprised with his question and darted a brief glance at her brother. Peter looked delighted with his suggestion, prompting her to smile. "I don't mind," she said.

James gave her a blinding smile and bid her goodbye once more.

As he and Peter trudged back to the Gryffindor Tower, he turned towards the shorter wizard. "Your sister is bloody brilliant," he sputtered out.

Peter laughed and nodded his head. "I heard some Ravenclaws calling her one time as the 'brightest witch of her age'," he said, chest puffing out with sheer pride for his sister. "If I had only half of her brains, I think I'd still be able to pass my classes with flying colours."

James grinned widely, not doubting that either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The whole Wit Sharpening Potion thing was slightly made up. I mean the ingredients were the same but I just invented that potency shite hahaha. A little background help from pharmacology may or may not have influenced that scene. I'm sorry if that had gotten way out of hand hehe.
> 
> Well, this is the end of Hermione's third year. Next chapter's already on her fourth year (the Marauder's fifth) and boy, let me tell you that things are going to get very exciting soon.
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes).


	9. chapter eight

* * *

**viii.**

_**now hold on, let me finish** _

(One by Sleeping at Last)

* * *

**September 1, 1975**

"What's this again?"

"An amulet," Hermione explained with a tired sigh, frowning at Peter's confused expression. The red gemstone hanging on a brown thread glinted brightly under the lights of King's Cross Station. "I tried practicing my Charms over the summer and made this for you."

Peter still looked mighty confused and rubbed the nape of his neck. "Oh, okay," he simply said. "Thanks. I guess."

Hermione rolled her eyes, the corner of her lips tugging upward. "It's supposed to protect you from dark magic," she elaborated.

He gave her a bemused smile. "I don't think I'll need protecting from dark magic," he shot back, snorting afterwards.

"Yes, you will if you ever become an Auror," she said with a meaningful glance. "Just bloody keep it on yourself everywhere you go. Times aren't exactly… _pleasant_ nowadays, so it won't hurt to be careful."

Hermione's mind went back to the series of news reports over the summer, how the Muggle newscaster had announced various weird phenomena they attributed to some terrible disturbance from nature. Any Muggle would be able to see black smoke and flashing lights, probably thinking of thunderstorms, as numerous towering trees were ruined and their homes destroyed. Sometimes, these 'thunderstorms' resulted in death. But, anyone with a magical background would be able to distinguish swiftly apparating wizards and witches, cloaked with black and faces hidden behind silver, glinting masks. The flashes of light were various spells, most undoubtedly dark curses, that destroyed and killed hundreds of lives.

The series of news had greatly bothered Hermione and encouraged her to work on practicing her charms more fervently. In the end, she managed to produce amulets that would protect both her mother and her brother everywhere they went. Anya liked it so much that she had promised to wear it anywhere she went. Peter, on the other hand, seemed terribly uncomfortable with her gift.

"Wait, you mean to say you've been practicing _over_ summer?" Peter asked, confused. "How were you able to do that without being detected by the ministry? I mean, you're still underage."

Hermione snorted and dragged her trunk onto the train. "We can't be detected because of Mum's wards at home," she pointed out. "Honestly, that stupid law just applies to _Muggleborns_ , who are constantly surrounded by Muggles over the break. Quite unfair, if you ask me."

"Mum placed wards on our house?" Peter thundered, clearly surprised.

"Of course," she exclaimed, throwing him a bewildered glare. "You didn't know?" When he shook his head, she frowned. "Huh, well I can feel the pulse of magic surrounding our house. I didn't notice it at first because Mum never placed any protective wards before because… you know…" Peter grimaced, and Hermione quickly added, "I just noticed it once we got home at the start of summer."

Her older brother suddenly looked worried. "Why do you reckon Mum started placing wards on our home?" he asked.

Hermione bit her bottom lip to stop herself from blurting out the most obvious thing. With the increasing attacks made by Voldemort's followers, people were growing afraid. Even her mother, who had happily lived like a Muggle for the past few years, already understood the implication of the growing attacks. Anya just wanted her home to be extra safe, especially if her children were home.

She knew Peter had instantly thought about that, too, but never voiced it aloud. "Most magical families always place wards around their home to protect them from thieves and other unwelcome guests," she reasoned out, trying to convince herself too. "It isn't uncommon, Peter."

He sighed, smiling slightly because he knew what she was trying to do.

" _Anyway_ ," she said, grabbing onto his arm. "It is OWLs year for you lot so we should continue our study sessions."

"We're not yet in Hogwarts, Hermione, _have mercy_ ," he whined. When she merely glared, he laughed and nodded. " _Fine_. I was planning to anyway. James has been pestering me over the summer, asking if we'd still study together once the school year starts."

Well, that was news to her. "He did?"

"Yeah," he said with an amused smile. "Said he couldn't wait to pick your brains again." This prompted Hermione's eyes to widen, but Peter merely laughed. "I'm sure that wasn't really his reason. I can't help but think he's just using your study sessions as an excuse for something else entirely. I still haven't figured it out though."

"I have," Hermione said with a deft shrug.

"What? Really?"

She snickered. "I'm sure you will know all about it in due time," she reassured. "One thing I know about James Potter is that he likes everything boisterous. I don't think he'll hold back this year anymore."

"What do you mean?" Peter asked, knitting his eyebrows in confusion.

Before she could answer, she spied the redhead that was James's object of affection. "Never mind now, Peter," she brushed off. "I see Lily over there. I'll see you around in school, yeah?"

Peter pulled her into a brief hug. "Don't study too hard, Hermione," he seriously said with a pointed stare.

"Since when do I listen to you, brother of mine?" she teased. The Ravenclaw then bid him goodbye and pulled her trunk towards the compartment where Lily was. She was immediately engulfed into a huge, warm hug and laughingly, Hermione tried to pry away the excited redhead from her arms.

"And hello to you too," she greeted as she completely walked into the compartment and closed the door behind her. "Hello, Sev."

"Pettigrew," the Slytherin replied with a small smirk on his face. "Had a good summer?"

She merely shrugged her shoulders and sat down on the seat across from him. "It was all right," she said. "Mum brought over her Muggle boyfriend to meet us and besides the awkwardness of it all, he was tolerable."

"You don't like him," Lily pointed out, quirking an eyebrow.

Hermione had no qualms of showing how she truly felt about her mother's new boyfriend, now that Anya wasn't there to see it. "He was… _something_ ," she said, scrunching up her nose. Richard Jones looked harmless, definitely _better_ than Timothy Pettigrew, and her mother liked him enough to keep him around. But Hermione just thought that he was so… dull. Peter blessedly tried to be the sweet boy he'd always been, engaging the man in some conversation about anything Muggle he was still familiar with. Richard tried asking them about their magical school, but Peter and Hermione kept their answers curt, knowing it wouldn't still be a good idea if they divulged too much about their society to a Muggle.

Honestly, Hermione thought that the reason why Richard Jones asked her mother out was because she was a _witch_. She wouldn't even be surprised if this was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him.

"Something _meaning_?" Lily pushed.

Her cheeks flared up because she knew it was a bad thing to say, but really Hermione couldn't help herself. "He was terribly dull," she complained. "I know my mother will pull my tongue out just saying that aloud but he is. I tried so hard to like him because my mother did, and Mum is probably the most wonderful woman in this whole world. But I really can't. He droned on and on about car parts and how _fascinating_ his new television was and all I could hear inside my head were gears screeching and turning and _bloody hell_ , I had to stop myself from yawning widely because I didn't want to offend him."

To her surprise, Severus barked a laugh. "Now you know how we felt when you lectured us about your precious theories," he pointed out.

Her cheeks flared once more, this time deeply affronted. "I am not dull!" she exclaimed.

"No, you're not!" Lily insisted, engulfing Hermione into another bear hug whilst shooting a dark glare at the Slytherin. "You make our lives entertaining, Hermione Pettigrew."

"You make me sound like some kind of a clown or something," Hermione sighed, patting Lily's back. "But thanks for trying, Lils."

The older witch grinned. "Anyway, I have some news!" She then excitedly flashed a shiny maroon badge, proudly bearing the letter 'P'. "I was made Prefect this year."

"Everybody knew you'd become one, Lily, honestly," Hermione teased, but hugged her in congratulations nonetheless.

"I made Prefect, too," Severus silkily announced. Lily's eyes comically widened as she whipped her head around. The Slytherin also showed them the same badge with the letter 'P' embossed on it. The only difference was that it was emerald green.

Hermione expelled a long-suffering sigh. "Great, now you're _both_ Prefects," she said. "I'm sure you'll have a lot of responsibilities this year and you won't have enough time for me."

It was troublesome, and maybe a tad silly, how she was saddened over this simple fact. She was proud of her friends, but this also meant they'd be busier this year. Being best friends with upperclassmen was difficult enough; Hermione had to align her schedule with her best friends just to spend time with them. It was extra hard because Lily and Severus were from different Houses, so they had different schedules too. Hermione's housemates always pointed out how amazing it was they had stayed good friends despite their different year levels and houses. But they really tried looking for time to hang out together and it still made Hermione's heart flutter with delight how Lily and Severus wanted to spend time with her just as much as she wanted to spend time with them. She never really thought about the importance of spending time with her friends before, because Harry and Ron were here housemates _and_ they were on the same year level. Now, Hermione treasured every moment she had with both Lily and Severus.

"You know," Severus quipped, dragging her mind back into reality. "You should start hanging out with your housemates more, Hermione."

"I have Ravenclaw friends," she interjected, but the Slytherin merely rolled his eyes. "But I'm sure you will miss me very much if I started spending more time with them."

Lily laughed when Severus made a sour face. "Don't delude yourself, Pettigrew," he snootily replied, but Hermione merely smiled, knowing nonetheless that he would, even though he'd rather die than admit it to her.

As Lily and Severus fell into amiable conversation, Hermione secretly started worrying about this year. According to Harry's stories, this was the year of their fallout. Hermione was glad Harry was able to provide some details about it, telling her that it happened after the end of their OWLs, with Severus calling Lily a 'Mudblood'. With their broken friendship, Snape had spiralled out of control and grew more immersed with the Dark Arts. Lily, on the other hand, had grown closer to the Marauders and by their seventh year, she had started dating James Potter.

Hermione's eyes strayed over to Severus, his eyes glittering fondly whilst Lily comically recounted how Petunia's new boyfriend – Vernon Dursley for Merlin's sake – boasted his funny little moustache and about other, boring Muggle things Lily didn't bother understanding. Severus snorted in all the right places, his attention solely on Lily, and as usual, her oblivious best friend couldn't see the clear adoration in his eyes.

The Ravenclaw felt relieved how she and Lily had managed to stop Severus from dabbling too much with the Dark Arts. He had tried to research potions that almost bordered questionable, and although Hermione had no right lecturing him about making shady potions, they managed to convince him there were other challenging potions he could brew without having to acquire ridiculously evil and dangerous ingredients.

Severus was also tolerant with Muggleborns now, mostly because he had been best friends with one since they were children. Lily was undoubtedly special to him, which was why it wasn't a surprise he treated her differently. The other Muggleborns, however, were treated civilly by him. He was still a Slytherin after all and he couldn't be seen by his Housemates as being all chummy with them. He was already bullied for his blood-status as a Half-Blood _and_ fraternising with a Muggleborn; he didn't need another reason to be tormented by his housemates.

When Severus broke out into quiet chuckles, his face lighting up, Hermione stared in amusement. She made a promise to herself that whatever happened this year, she would not let Lily and Severus' fallout happen _at all_. She would fight tooth and nail if the need arose just to keep this little trio together. She had grown very fond of them both and she didn't want a single event to break their friendship.

"Damn it!" Lily suddenly exclaimed, quickly jumping onto her feet. "We have a meeting with the Heads, Severus."

"Relax, Lily, we have five more minutes to spare," he pointed out, languidly standing up from his seat.

Lily bent down to give Hermione a hug. "Sorry we have to leave," she murmured against her voluminous hair. "We'll buy you toffees from the Trolley Lady before returning."

Hermione gave them both a smile and bid them goodbye.

Once she was left alone, she sighed at the silence that was left in their wake. Deciding she didn't have to wallow with her silly misery, Hermione pulled out her Herbology textbook and browsed through their first lesson for this school year.

**-ooo-**

Hermione was jerked awake when the compartment door opened.

She blearily rubbed sleep out of her eyes and glanced at the door, expecting to see both Lily and Severus back from their meeting, but was greeted with someone else entirely. The silver eyes staring at her were colder than his brother's, _bluer_ in fact, and although Sirius wore his hair charmingly dishevelled, the boy standing at the door wore his perfectly gelled and styled impeccably. He looked so much like Sirius, but he didn't exude Sirius' carefree attitude. Despite being a year younger than the Black heir, he looked much more mature and the perfect picture of Pureblood aristocracy.

"Can I help you?" Hermione slowly asked, deciding that she'd be the one to break the silence.

Regulus pursed his lips and stiffly walked inside, quietly closing the compartment door behind him. Hermione watched him warily as he sat down on the chair opposite her. His shoulders were stiff and he sat as straight as a ruler, it was quite unnerving.

He looked deeply troubled. His face was a picture of indifference, something she had always seen Draco Malfoy wear at school, but his grey eyes were tumultuous. Regulus kept on furiously glancing at the compartment window, as if expecting that someone would suddenly burst inside and drag him away.

"Are you… are you all right?" she asked, her voice a tad softer this time.

He finally seemed to realise that he was not alone in the compartment and visibly relaxed. His shoulders slumped forward and his mask briefly slipped away. Hermione was able to see a deep haunted look on his face, an expression that no fifteen-year-old should wear, and wondered what had caused him so much distress.

"May I stay here for a while?" he silkily asked, his rich baritone reverberating in the small, four walls of the compartment. He sounded so _tired_ and Hermione couldn't say no.

Thick silence settled between them and Hermione didn't know how she should act around the elusive Slytherin. She never really looked his way in the past years. Unlike Sirius, who demanded attention everywhere he went with his loud voice and charismatic smile, Regulus was quiet and aloof – everything a Pureblood heir possessed. But that did not mean he wasn't a force to be reckoned with, too. There was something in his aura that also demanded attention, and although she never really _looked_ at him properly, she couldn't deny that her eyes strayed over his form every time he walked into a room.

"Pettigrew, right?"

She blinked in surprise upon being addressed. The stuffy Pureblood had now marginally relaxed and this time was peering at her curiously.

"Hermione's fine," she said with a tight smile.

He briefly nodded his head and quirked a small smirk. "I'm—"

"—Regulus Black, I know," she finished for him. He looked at her in surprise, and she couldn't help but to expel a breathy laugh. "We're in the same year. And, _well_ , your older brother's pretty famous so everybody knew about you."

His silver eyes darkened upon the mention of Sirius, but he replied nevertheless. "Of course." His jaw tensed briefly, before he relaxed once more and questioningly looked over at Hermione. "You're quite famous too, you know," he offered.

"Because I'm Peter Pettigrew's little sister?" she said with a kind smile. "He's friends with the infamous pranksters after all."

"That isn't entirely false, but I'm speaking about another thing," he continued. He peered at her with a mixture of honest curiosity and appraisal. "Brightest witch of her age, that's what the Ravenclaws have been calling you."

Her eyes widened at the familiar title. " _What_?" she sputtered out. "Really?"

When he nodded his head, amused at her surprise, Hermione grew panicky. If she was famously bestowed with that title, that meant _everybody_ knew her. She silently berated herself, because she had tried her hardest to blend at least with the crowd. That, when people spoke about her, the first thing they'd think of would be "Oh, Hermione Pettigrew? Clever girl." And then, they'd move on to another topic without thinking about her again.

But now, _now_ if people were hailing her as the brightest witch of her age, then people would talk about her more and Voldemort would inevitably notice her.

"Are you quite all right?" Regulus asked, his eyebrows now knitting together at her surprising silence.

"What?" she asked a tad squeakily. "Oh, oh… err, yes."

He merely quirked an eyebrow and proceeded to look outside the carriage window. Hermione busied herself by glancing down her open Herbology textbook, but the words swam before her eyes, refusing to be read.

Now that they were properly acquainted, Hermione couldn't help but think about Regulus' inevitable future. He was the first one to discover Voldemort's secret and had ultimately sacrificed himself trying to bring the Dark Lord down. It made her uncomfortable how he would be dead in four years, his body lost with the other Inferi in the lake guarding the horcrux. She also wondered how he would feel if he discovered his self-sacrificing act was for naught, since the Light Side had lost. Would he regret his choice of defying the Dark Lord in the end?

"Do you reckon this year will be difficult?"

He was speaking again and Hermione didn't understand why he was bothering to converse with her. She owlishly glanced at him, unsure what was going through his mind. The Slytherin slowly pulled his gaze away from the greenery passing by and settled them on her.

"We will be having our OWLs next year," she slowly pointed out. "It will be mighty difficult because most of our lessons this year will be asked in our OWLs."

"Hmm." He grew thoughtful and pursed his lips. "I suppose I should start studying soon."

"You should start studying _now_ ," she insisted. "I managed to convince my brother to start studying last year and he's gotten better academically. He thinks studying early was the best thing he'd ever done. He wants to be an Auror, you see. And Auror selection is very stringent."

Regulus now sported a small, amused smile on his face that almost made him look too much like Sirius. "I don't plan on becoming an Auror," he said. "Our vaults are filled to the brim, Pettigrew. I don't have to study my arse off to hopefully get employed in the future. The Black fortune will get us by for another century or two."

Hermione wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Of course," she scoffed. "The Sacred Twenty-Eight really have it easy." She murmured under her breath, annoyed at how unfair it was that pompous gits could sit primly on their velvety couches whilst other witches and wizards like her had to work day and night just to put food on their plates.

A booming laugh escaped from Regulus, once again bewildering Hermione. "You're an interesting witch, Hermione Pettigrew," he said, unbothered by the wide grin on his face that lit his whole features. "I'm starting to regret the years I've wasted not acquainting myself with you."

She knitted her eyebrows, unsure if he was complimenting her. "Err… thanks?" she hesitantly asked.

The compartment door suddenly drew open, capturing both of their attentions. Lily was animatedly speaking with Severus but stopped abruptly, seeing that Hermione wasn't alone.

"Oh," the redhead said, cautiously looking at the younger version of Sirius. "Hi."

"Evans," he smoothly greeted. Hermione watched in amazement at how his open emotions a while ago had quickly slid behind his aloof mask. His grey eyes slithered slowly at the tense Slytherin standing beside Lily. "Snape."

Sev's jaw tensed and merely acknowledged his greeting with a slight tip of his head.

"Well," Regulus said, his gaze snapping back to Hermione, amusement once again seeping into his silver eyes as he elegantly stood up from his seat. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Hermione Pettigrew."

"Um… likewise," she said, giving him a hesitant smile.

He bid them goodbye and left.

As soon as he had gone, Lily slid on the seat beside Hermione with wide eyes. "I still can't believe he's related to _Sirius Black_ ," she said, followed by a disbelieving laugh. "Imagine Sirius acting like a proper Pureblood. I think hell would have frozen over by then."

Severus, on the other hand, still looked tense as he sat down on the seat opposite Hermione. "When I said you should start making more friends in your year, I didn't mean _Regulus Black_." There was suppressed anger in Sev's dark eyes and Hermione wondered if the younger Black was one of the students who made his life a living hell.

"He wasn't… _bad_." Hermione frowned, wondering if that was the right way to describe her interaction with the future Death Eater.

It surprised her when Severus suddenly reached forward and tightly gripped her arm. "He's _bad news_ ," he ground out through gritted teeth. "It's best if you stay away from him."

"Sev, really, you're being a tad melodramatic," Lily said, but there was worry in her eyes at his strange behaviour.

Hermione calmly placed a hand on top of his and gave it a comforting squeeze. "You don't have to worry about me, Sev," she teased, trying to dispel the suddenly heavy atmosphere in their compartment. "But it's nice to think that you worry for my wellbeing."

Her words seemed to do the trick for Severus's face twisted in disgust and he immediately pulled his hand away from her. "Shut up, Pettigrew," he shot back, his cheeks reddening slightly from embarrassment and annoyance. Lily giggled while Hermione grinned.

They went back to their comfortable conversation, with Lily doing most of the talking. Hermione hummed and smiled at the right moments, but her mind was already elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of an enigmatic fourth year Slytherin.

* * *

**September 30, 1975**

Hermione knitted her eyebrows when James Potter purposively marched towards the table and sat on the chair opposite her uninvited.

"We have no study sessions today," she pointed out, wondering what had made the usually confident Gryffindor so… _flustered_.

"I'm not here for any study sessions," he explained, running a hand through his unruly hair. He nervously drummed his fingers on the wooden table and Hermione patiently waited for him to tell him his reason for bothering her in the library today. Years and years of being best friends with Harry Potter had made her notice some nuances that he and his father shared. Like James, Harry had a hard time voicing out the more difficult feelings and Hermione knew that no amount of coaxing would get him to talk; all she had to do was be patient with him. She didn't doubt it would be the same with James.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the Gryffindor leaned closer to Hermione. "I have a favour to ask," he simply said.

Her eyebrows flew to her hairline, intrigued. "Favour?" she echoed. James slowly nodded his head, his hazel eyes sweeping around the library as if to see if there was anyone listening in to their conversation. "About?"

His cheeks flooded red as a sheepish smile grew on his face. "About Lily Evans, actually." He nervously fluffed his hair once more and avoided her eyes.

' _Oh,'_ she thought, internally rolling her eyes at how ridiculous he looked. "What about Lily?" she insisted, though she already knew where this was going.

"You're her best friend, right?" he asked bluntly. Hermione merely stared at him, prompting his cheeks to redden more. "I mean, yeah, yeah, of course you are." He laughed nervously and thickly swallowed. "I was wondering if you can – _I dunno_ – put a good word about me to her. Like how I'm actually diligent and err, bloody nice if I wanted to. Maybe a tad charming, too? Or sweet. Whatever, just some good word will do, Pettigrew."

She couldn't stop the amused snort from escaping her mouth. James looked slightly offended and _more_ embarrassed. "Lily already knows about you, Potter," she reminded him. "I don't think my _good_ word will make her change her opinion about you."

James expelled a loud groan and tiredly removed his glasses. He rubbed his face, perhaps trying to remove the redness on his cheeks, and loudly sighed. "I was such a berk, wasn't I?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, fully knowing it was rhetorical.

He gave her a light glare, but Hermione was unfazed.

"I'm going to try to woo Lily Evans this year," he confessed, placing his glasses back on top of his nose. "I was hoping you can help me."

Hermione sighed. She didn't exactly like James as much as she liked Lily; he was, after all, a _berk_. It still unnerved her how a boy with Harry Potter's face could be such a bully without thinking too much about the consequences of his actions. But Hermione had long divorced the thought of her beloved best friend from the hazel-eyed Pureblood sitting across from her. They were too different for her to even think about Harry every time she looked at James.

 _But_ , if helping him meant he would be able to get together with Lily and ultimately make Harry Potter, then Hermione knew she never really had any choice.

"All right," she said, knowing fully that she was grimacing.

He laughed at the look on her face. "There's no need to look like you've eaten something rotten, Hermione," he said with that stupid, _stupid_ lopsided grin that would look terribly out-of-place if it was Harry who had worn it.

"I love Lily very, _very_ much," she warned with a dangerous glint in her eyes. "If you hurt her, I will not hesitate to throw another Bat-Boogey Hex your way."

Comically, he immediately covered his nose from her gaze. "Bloody terrifying, that's what you are," he murmured under his breath. When Hermione continued to glare at him, he expelled a huge sigh. "I'm not going to hurt Lily. I like her too much to do that."

"If I'm going to help you get together with Lily," she started, "it means you will have to stop bothering Severus."

He didn't like her condition, that was for sure. "Hey, I'm not going out of my way to torment the bastard now, am I?" he grumbled under his breath. He looked like he was still struggling to stop himself from asking a question, but his curiosity had won over. "They're not _together_ , are they?"

Hermione pursed her lips, Severus's glittering eyes full of adoration for Lily flashing before her eyes. "No," she said, knowing it was the truth after all. James beamed brightly at her answer.

"So, will you help me?" he asked, eyes full of hope.

She sighed again. "Fine," she said, unable to stop smiling when he looked ridiculously happy.

James grabbed both of her hands with earnest gratitude, managing to bewilder Hermione. She mutely blinked her blue eyes at him as he said, "Thanks, Pettigrew. I owe you a butterbeer."

He gave her that lopsided smile once more and bid his goodbye. Hermione's eyes were still wide as she watched him completely leave the library.

It bothered her immensely how it took her heart at least a few more minutes to rest easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hermione's fourth year will span for four chapters in total. It's a pretty eventful year for our characters, you see :)
> 
> I'm really shitty when it comes to answering reviews. I used to do them reverently before but I'm just a lazy arse now. I spend most of my time browsing my social media, watching random youtube videos, and slaving over this fic (which, by the way, is bloody effing difficult to write now!) and so, as you can see, I'm a bit busy. If you want to talk, you can always head over tumblr (follow me!). I spend most of time there too. Tumblr humor is really my thing haha.


	10. chapter nine

* * *

**ix.**

_**we'll tell our stories on these walls** _

(North by Sleeping at Last)

* * *

**November 19, 1975**

James crumpled messily onto the grimy floor of the Shrieking Shack, too tired to reach the couch. Despite the obvious exhaustion, a wide grin grew on his face as he lifted his head and gazed at his other friends. Remus – now back in human form - was curled up tightly on the bed they had snuck inside the Shrieking Shack. It was a luxurious bed, bearing the Potter seal, and was 'borrowed' from the Potter Manor when Sirius had spent the summer at his house.

Peter was sprawled spread-eagle on the floor, but very much awake. Sirius, still in his Animagus form, started bounding towards Peter and proceeded to slobber over his face.

"Geroff, Sirius!" he cried, tiredly pushing him away and wiping his face with disgust in his blue eyes. James snickered when Sirius changed back into his human form and barked a laugh, reaching out for Peter to try and lick his face once more. Peter protested, a mixture of humour and disgust on his face, and shied away from Sirius's assault.

"We've actually done it, mates," James declared, slowly sitting up from the dirty floor. "We've actually become Animagi."

Both Sirius and Peter paused in their horsing around to beam brightly at James. They had been working their very best to achieve this, after all. Even Peter, who doubted his skills, was able to change into a fully-formed Animagus.

James's eyes landed on Remus and although he never partook in the transformation, he seemed the happiest of them all. Remus voiced out his doubts about their little project; he'd read about the gruelling steps on how to become an Animagi and it was a _huge_ waste of time. But the other three had persisted, explaining to him that he shouldn't be alone during his transformations, and the only way to achieve that without anyone getting hurt, was for them to become Animagi. Remus had watched them as they had failed and failed, assuring them that he wouldn't be hurt if they all decided to give up.

But _James_ couldn't give up. Not when it brought out a certain life in Remus' golden eyes every time they excitedly talked about the progress in their potions.

In his stag form last night, he'd observed Remus in his werewolf form. The other three waited with bated breath, testing out their theory that Remus wouldn't hurt them when they were animals, and James only managed to properly breathe when Remus merely playfully chased Sirius in his dog form. Peter, the smallest of them all, decided to perch on James's antlers all throughout the night as they happily perused the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest and some parts of Hogsmeade.

"I had so much fun last night," Remus confessed, his voice barely heard in the small dingy room of the Shrieking Shack. But the three heard him perfectly, for their beams almost stretched far and wide like the horizon.

"How could you know, wanker?" Sirius playfully asked, throwing him a smirk. "You're too busy being all… all… _moony_ last night."

"Moony?" James echoed, knitting his eyebrows in confusion.

Sirius snorted out a laugh. "You know how he gets when it's the full moon and he's in his werewolf form," he pointed out.

"I don't think you're using the word right, Sirius," Peter said with a laugh.

The Black heir snickered and blearily rubbed his eyes. "'Moony' has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" he offered. He comically stood up and brandished his wand, clambering towards Remus. The werewolf, too tired and sore all over to move, was only able to manage to glare at Sirius when the other wizard started tapping his wand on his shoulders.

"What the hell are you doing?" James asked, grinning.

"Henceforth, I dub thee 'Moony'," he confidently boomed, squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin like the true Pureblood heir he was. "Arise, good sir."

"Shut up," Remus said, batting his wand away. He was unable to stop his snickering, though, admittedly finding it hilarious.

James perked up. "Hey, here's an idea!" he said. "Why don't we start calling each other by different nicknames. You know, like an inside joke or something."

"You think becoming an Animagus is an _inside joke_?" Peter asked him, incredulous.

James rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean… _Wormtail_ ," he said, grinning teasingly at Peter's blush. "I think 'Wormtail' suits you fine, Petey. Remember last night when one raven thought your tail was food for her children and snapped her beak around your wormy little tail?"

Sirius doubled over in laughter while Peter gave him a murderous glare. "Berk," he growled, lunging forward to smack him on the head. But James was fast and rolled away, prompting Peter to fall down on his face.

James snorted and patted him on the back.

"Me, Jamesy, me," Sirius excitedly asked. "What do you think my nickname should be?"

"Mutt," Remus suggested.

"Or Mongrel," Peter said with a reverent nod.

Sirius both gave them the middle finger, while James laughed. "I dunno…" the Potter heir started, thoughtfully tapping his fingers against his thigh. "What about… 'Padfoot'?"

"Where the hell did that come from?" Remus asked with a brief laugh.

James shrugged, sheepishly grinning. "Well, your Animagus had padded feet so…"

"'Padfoot' sounds good enough for me," Sirius grinned. "I like it."

"I still think 'Mutt' is a better choice," the werewolf murmured.

Peter grinned. "Or 'Mongrel."

"Shut up."

"And as for me…" James trailed off and thought very hard what his nickname would be. His Animagus form was a magnificent stag, standing tall and proud with antlers that could poke somebody's eye out if he wanted. He was as white as snow too, almost perfectly blending in with the blanketed snow outside the little shack.

"I think," Sirius started, a huge grin growing on his face, "I think 'Prongs' suits you just fine, Jamesy-boy."

"Prongs," James echoed, mirroring Sirius' smile. "I like it."

Remus slowly sat up from his bed, a teasing glint in his tired eyes. "Don't you think we are too old for nicknames?"

"Shut up, Lupin—"

"—way to ruin the mood, _Moony_ —"

"—they're not so bad—"

And Remus was laughing – loud, honest-to-Merlin, heartily laughing – and James couldn't stop the grin on his face from growing. This was the most _human_ Remus had looked a day after the full moon. Despite the new self-inflicted scratches on his face and arms and the dark bags under his eyes, Remus almost looked like he hadn't transformed last night.

James caught both of Sirius's and Peter's gazes, knowing they were thinking exactly the same thing.

"Well," the weary Gryffindor said after stifling his laughter, "maybe we should also start calling our little group with a different name, too." When Sirius gave him a bemused smile, Remus shrugged and exhaustedly rubbed his right eye. "I mean it would really… it would really be _wicked_."

"Now, we're talking," Sirius said, clapping Remus at his shoulder that almost toppled him forward. Remus threw him a glare, but Sirius didn't notice.

James grew quiet and seriously thought of a nice name for their little group. They needed something that would make them sound like _themselves_ – pranksters and glorious and all – that would have an impact to their school even after they left. A _legacy_ , he thought, when their name would be breathed out reverently by future generations of pranksters, thanking them for being a wonderful role model to them all.

"The Marauders?" Peter tentatively asked.

"The what?" James asked, intrigued.

"The Marauders," Peter repeated, this time more confidently.

Remus was grinning at him. "We're not looting or attacking anything, Wormtail," he pointed out, prompting both Sirius and James to grin because he had casually called Peter by his newly christened nickname.

" _Well_ ," Peter started, "I mean we roam around the Forbidden Forest and Hogsmeade during the full moon. Besides, I think it sounds pretty cool."

"If there's anyone who's a true marauder, I'd say it's me," Remus said with a tired sigh.

Peter awkwardly scratched his chin and sheepishly grinned. "We can always say we roam around in search for trouble?" He blushed when Remus quirked his eyebrow in amusement. "Well… you can suggest another name if you don't like it."

But Sirius was already vigorously shaking his head, his luscious locks whipping against his cheek. "No, _no_ , that's brilliant!" he exclaimed as he excitedly looked at all of his friends. "'The Marauders'. Imagine… future generations will remember us as the greatest pranksters that have ever graced Hogwarts."

"'The Marauders'," James repeated, a brilliant grin on his face. "It has a nice little ring to it, don't you think?" The bespectacled wizard then noisily cleared his throat and donned a serious look. "Messrs, all in favour of the name 'Marauder' say aye."

The booming 'ayes' cracked his serious look as a huge grin appeared on his face again.

Sirius's smile widened as he also cleared his throat and waved his wand. Standing taller, he proclaimed, "Henceforth, we are to be remembered as 'The Marauders', Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers!"

Peter broke into excited clapping while Remus rolled his eyes. He was unable to hide his growing grin, however, when Sirius started to comically bow with practiced ease. James grinned at all of them, even jumping up from the floor and bowing at Sirius in return, thinking quite warmly how their bond of friendship had grown stronger today.

* * *

**November 25, 1975**

Hermione felt them first before seeing them.

The Marauders were a force to be reckoned with, commanding attention every time they entered a room. They just emitted this certain brightness that enveloped every corner of the room, stubbornly refusing to be ignored until every head was turned in their direction. Hermione sometimes wondered if they did this on purpose or were wholly oblivious to how powerful their presence could be.

"Hermione!" her brother greeted.

She slowly looked up from the parchment she was holding to tightly smile at her brother. Her eyes then landed on the grinning James, his hazel eyes already latched onto the redhead beside her. Then, with her amusement wearing thin, Sirius stepped forward and enthusiastically waved his hand, a sheepish Remus not too far behind.

"Err… I hope it's not bothersome to join you today," Remus kindly said, now with an apology on his face. Hermione instantly quelled the annoyance she felt and curtly shook her head in answer.

"Come now, kitten," Sirius teased, pulling the chair directly across from her. "Pretend to at least be happy to see us."

"Why are you all here?" Lily asked with a frown. She made a face when James started making googly eyes at her.

"I'm sorry, they were bloody persistent," Peter answered. He sat on the empty seat beside Lily and nervously laughed. "I tried to tell them we're serious about studying but they insisted to come anyway, promising to be on their best behaviour."

"I _am_ serious," Sirius interjected, grinning widely at the pun he had made. "Well, I am _Sirius_ , too. And I am serious with my studies. Seriously serious Sirius." He turned to Remus, his grey eyes glinting in amusement. "Hey! I think I've made a decent tongue twister."

Remus hit him in the chest with his elbow. "Shut up," he murmured under his breath, apologetically smiling at the witches again. "I'll try to keep them in place." He took the seat beside Sirius, while James finally occupied the last chair on the table. "We thought since it's OWLs year, we should start focusing on our studies more. And, _well_ , Peter and James had been yammering about Hermione's brilliance and we admittedly got curious."

Hermione's cheeks darkened at the compliment. "It's not all me," she murmured with a frown. "I just try to help whenever I can."

James snorted, much to her surprise. "Don't underestimate yourself, Pettigrew," he said, throwing her a playful wink. "I started getting more _Exceeds Expectations_ in my essays last year because of your help."

Her blush intensified as she lightly glared at him, noting his teasing tone.

"Besides," Sirius added, "I'm jealous of your colour-coded schedules, kitten. Even Prongsie here got one!"

"Prongsie?" Lily asked, knitting her eyebrows in confusion.

"That is me, Lils," James said, suddenly eager to be talking to the redhead. "Besides Hermione, you've been a great help too, my Lily flower. How can someone as pretty as you have brains like that? It should be _illegal_ , I tell you. Merlin really has his favourites, don't you think?"

Hermione wanted to smack herself at how overtly cheesy he was. Lily was clearly not amused, and it didn't help that Sirius kept on sniggering under his breath.

"Piss off, Potter," the redhead snapped, cheeks reddening, which Hermione knew was more from ire than embarrassment. "Direct your stupid lines to someone interested."

"And you're not?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Say, Lily, maybe you'd like to hang out with me on our next Hogsmeade weekend? Have a few butterbeers in the Three Broomsticks, hold each other's hand, and maybe give a few kisses if you fancy it?"

The brunette had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing at how a look of complete and utter disgust appeared on Lily's face. "Did I stutter, Potter?" she snarled. "I told you to direct your stupid lines at someone interested." She vehemently pointed at her face. "Does this look like someone who's _interested_?"

James, ridiculous, _ridiculous_ James, looked unfazed by her temper. "I'm not entirely sure, Lils," he said, lazily placing his chin on top of his upturned palm. "I'm too busy appreciating the little sparkles in your emerald eyes. Have I told you already that you have the prettiest eyes?"

"Yeah, mate, like the _umpteenth_ time," Sirius clipped, prompting Remus to snort in amusement.

"Well, that's just it!" Lily half-shrieked, half-whispered, and shot up from her seat. She swished her wand in one swift motion and all of her things flew inside her backpack.

"Lily…" Hermione called, but the redhead snootily looked down at her.

"Sorry, Hermione, I think I'll study in our common room tonight," she said, her icy tone warming a bit upon speaking to her best friend. Lily bent down and gave her a brief, but tight hug before completely pulling away. "Good night gentlemen." Her green eyes hardened when landing on the bespectacled Gryffindor. "And James."

"Oooh," Peter snickered.

"Shut up, Wormtail," James hissed, cheeks slightly warming. He then stood up suddenly, almost toppling over his chair and exclaimed, "I will not give up, Lily Evans! Someday you will love me too!"

"Mister Potter!" Madame Pince shrieked from across the library.

James was shamefaced and shouted a clear 'Sorry' to the irate librarian that earned him another scolding.

"Lily's starting crack, I'm telling you guys," James whispered once he plopped down on his seat again. "Did you see how she was trying to hold back a smile?"

"James, mate, maybe it's time to let the healers check your eyesight again because I think you are seeing things," Remus said, giving him a comforting pat on his shoulders.

The only Ravenclaw in the group sniggered under her breath, clearly concurring with Remus. Ever since James had proclaimed to the whole school that he was in love with the most beautiful girl, Lily Evans, his moves to woo her had become more and more obnoxious. Lily at first ignored it all and persisted with her schoolwork, but it was only a matter of time before she had snapped with that short temper of hers. James had happily dodged her wicked spells thrown his way just to shut him up, believing it was _progress_ because at least Lily was giving him attention. It was bloody obvious that James Potter never took 'no' as an answer and only did his very hardest every day to continue pursuing Lily.

It would have been admittedly amusing if she were a mere spectator, but she was _best friends_ with Lily. The redhead had been ranting nonstop about the irritating Gryffindor, harshly listing down things she wanted to do to him just to make him shut up. It didn't help that she was also _best friends_ with Severus. Ever since James had made Lily the object of his affection, he'd become moodier and difficult. Lily couldn't understand why he'd snap easily and stalk off, then proceeded to rant about Severus and listed things she wanted to do to him, to stop him from being such a sourpuss.

Overall, it had been a tiring month for Hermione. She had been working incessantly to keep her friends and brother focused on their OWLs this year, but their stupid teenage drama kept on interfering.

"You know, for the record," Hermione nonchalantly said, refusing to lift her blue eyes away from the essay she was making. "If you channelled that same energy into your studies, I don't doubt you'd start topping your classes, Potter." He was brilliant after all and he could throw a mean spell if he wanted to. Amongst the three aspiring Aurors, she knew it would be James who would be the most incredible at it.

"I'm going to take that as a compliment, Pettigrew." She heard his smirk more than saw it. "I didn't know you thought so highly of my intelligence."

Hermione sighed and tiredly rubbed the bridge of her nose. Trust James Potter to twist her words to better suit his ego. She didn't grace him with an answer in the end because she knew it would just further stroke his sun-sized ego.

"What are you writing?" Remus then asked, tapping a finger on her parchment.

She dragged her eyes away from her homework and kindly smiled at the werewolf. "Arithmancy essay. We are tasked with choosing a famous wizard or witch and to correlate their personalities and achievements with their Character Number."

"Oh, I remember that homework!" he exclaimed, delighted. "I chose Gellert Grindelwald, I think."

"An 8," Hermione said with a smile. When Remus beamed and nodded his head, she continued, "I chose Bathilda Bagshot for this homework."

Peter smiled fondly at his sister. "Why am I not surprised?" he cheekily asked. "Did I ever tell you that Hermione's made it her ritual to read _Hogwarts: A History_ once every summer?"

Her cheeks flared when the four boys snickered. "Honestly, _Hogwarts: A History_ isn't getting enough love," she protested. " _Besides_ , Bathilda Bagshot has an interesting Character Number. She had a complicated life, after all, and Arithmancy somehow predicted some of it."

"Why choose Arithmancy when there's Divination?" Sirius pointed out, grimacing when he briefly glanced over Hermione's half-finished essay. "At least with Divination, you can pass with your eyes closed."

"Like _literally_ ," James concurred with a solid nod. "You just have to dream some bloody weird shite to jot down on your dream journal and Professor Cayce will pass you in a heartbeat, proclaiming to everyone that you could become a powerful seer in the future."

"Because Divination is a load of codswallop," Hermione hotly exclaimed, unconsciously gripping her quill more tightly. "Why rely on predictions from stupid lines on your palms or cards when you can rely on precise answers like _numbers_ and _computations_. At least numbers don't lie. Your palms, however, may be unfortunately callused, their ridiculous bumps suggesting an obscure way of dying."

Remus was heartily laughing by the end of her tirade. "Your sister is really something, Peter," the future Defence Against the Dark Arts professor exclaimed. "Forgive me in advance if I try to seek your company to study in the library in the future."

Hermione kindly smiled at him, because Remus was the most tolerable after all. "I don't really mind," she said with a shrug.

"You'll allow us to join your little study sessions then?" Sirius asked with a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

The brunette gave him a stern glare. "If you promise to really _study_ , then who am I to refuse?" she asked.

"I'm going to study, I promise," the Black heir eagerly said. When Hermione still looked highly doubtful with his words, he raised his right hand and said, "Marauder's honour."

Hermione expelled a small laugh, knowing it was an honour of the highest degree. She briefly glanced at the other three, wondering when they had started calling each other those infamous names and acknowledging themselves as the Marauders.

"And I'd really like to have one of your personalised colour-coded schedules," Sirius continued. "Jamesy wasn't exaggerating when he said his grades started increasing after adhering to the bloody schedule you made. I still need high grades if I want to become an Auror in the future."

Hermione remembered her previous conversation with Regulus Black on the Hogwarts Express and was unable to stop herself from saying, "Aren't your vaults filled to the brim? Why are you so adamant on pursuing a career you won't even need to last you for another century?"

She was surprised at how his eyes turned steely grey instead of the usual warm, molten mercury. "To be honest with you, Miss Pettigrew," he said, a cold smile spreading on his face. "I'd rather not sit with fancy-shmancy holier-than-thou Purebloods for the rest of my life but instead travel around the country to hunt the bad guys."

Her blue eyes widened at his cold declaration, watching as Sirius hastily broke away their eye contact and took a deep, shuddering breath. When he looked back at her, his eyes were the usual warm grey once more. "So, a colour-coded schedule?" he quipped, the smile on his face now bright and warm, as if the cold Sirius a while ago had never even made an appearance.

Hermione sighed. "I'll give it to you tomorrow," she said, finally relenting. Her blue eyes swept towards the boy sitting beside Sirius and she smiled. "I can make one for you too, if you like, Remus."

His chest rumbled with a quiet laugh. "I think that would be nice," he agreed.

The group soon fell into silence, with some of them occasionally talking about a certain assignment or asking questions they couldn't understand. Hermione mostly kept to herself and quietly observed the Marauders with keen eyes. Remus truly was clever, and even before Hermione could offer an answer to one of their questions, he was already halfway through explaining the reason for that solution. He really tried his hardest to make his explanation simpler; no wonder students loved him when he was their Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

And it surprised her more how both Sirius and James were diligently doing their homework. When one of them got a tad distracted, Remus would smack them on the underside of their heads and point out that they still had work to do. Despite the glares they would give him, the two Purebloods would follow him nonetheless. Peter wasn't kidding when he said that they unquestionably listened to Remus, utmost respect in their eyes when they were properly apprehended.

Hermione's eyes finally landed on her brother, who was content with quietly laughing at their stupid antics. His blue eyes were alit with happiness; Hermione had only ever seen his eyes like this when he was with his friends. Her heart was already at ease with the thought that Peter may not stray away from the right path and ultimately betray his best friends, but sometimes she did wonder what his trigger for changing sides had been. The older Sirius had once harshly spat how he was a spineless coward, blindly following whomever was more powerful for his own personal gain.

But the laughing Peter with twinkling eyes didn't look like a spineless coward to her. Not even in the slightest. Hermione's own blue eyes softened with warmth and love for her brother, knowing that one day he'd do something great. That the world would finally recognise him as a great person of his own, not some faithful sidekick running around to catch up with Sirius and James.

"All right, Pettigrew?"

She blinked in surprise and looked at the curious eyes of James Potter. "Yes, of course," she said, feeling her cheeks warming with embarrassment at being caught staring. "Just dazed off for a while, I suppose."

"You study too much," the bespectacled boy teased, flashing her his boyish, lopsided smile. Hermione's heart stuttered at the sight and she immediately tore her gaze away from him, frowning at her strange reaction concerning the hazel-eyed boy.

She knew how to interact with Sirius and Remus because she'd met their older counterparts. Peter was her brother so she was comfortable with his presence. But James… _James_ was a wild card. She only knew stories about him, golden _memories_ of his bravery and selflessness uttered reverently by his mourning best friends. But actually interacting with James was an entirely different story. Hermione sometimes found herself staring thoughtfully at him during meals, wondering what went on inside that egotistical head of his. How could someone so brave and selfless be so arrogant and self-absorbed at the same time? She comforted herself into thinking that he was still young and naïve, that he was still a wide-eyed boy who did not yet know about war and suffering.

' _I should cut him some slack,'_ she told herself countless times, whenever she found herself staring at the back of his dishevelled hair disapprovingly.

Like what Peter had told her before, he was raised as a proper Pureblood, doted upon by his parents because he was an only child. He got everything he wanted and he never knew about the perils of war and suffering. Hermione just hoped that the golden James Potter who older Sirius and Remus kept on talking about, would one day finally appear.

Ridding her mind of such an incorrigible boy, Hermione forced herself to focus on her other homework.

By the time she was finished, the Marauders were cajoling her to return to her dormitories before curfew.

"Let me escort the lady back to her dormitories," James announced. "Just to prove to everyone I can be a proper gentleman, too."

The Pettigrew siblings simultaneously narrowed their eyes in suspicion.

"You don't have to do that," Peter deliberately said. "I can take her there myself."

"Don't bother, Petey," James flippantly said, his tone of voice insisting there was no room for protest. Hermione had to hide a smile when her brother openly scowled at his suspicious best friend.

"Don't tell me you're two-timing, Prongsie," Sirius cajoled, prompting Hermione's eyes to widen while James merely laughed.

"There's only Lily flower in my heart, mate," the bespectacled Gryffindor seriously declared.

Remus snorted and bid them both goodbye, pulling Sirius and Peter with him. Her brother threw a warning glare their way, before allowing Remus to finally drag him out of the library.

James grabbed onto Hermione's bag and slung it across his shoulders despite her protests. "Shall we?" he asked with that cheeky grin.

Hermione frowned and walked behind him until they were outside the library. "So why are you really escorting me to the Ravenclaw Tower?" she asked, eyes still narrowed suspiciously at his back.

His hazel eyes glinted in amusement. "I'm just curious where the elusive Ravenclaw Tower is located," he said with a half-hearted shrug.

The brunette scoffed, prompting his smile to widen. "Please, I know you figured out how to get inside the Ravenclaw Common Room in your first year," she pointed out.

"Second year, actually," he corrected with a laugh. He nervously ran a hand through his hair and Hermione instantly knew what this was all about. "Say… has _Lily_ …"

She sighed and politely shook her head. "Sorry," she whispered with an apologetic smile. "You can't change someone's opinion of you overnight."

James deflated, the usual pompous git that strutted around Hogwarts every day, gone. Hermione admittedly stared a bit because it was disconcerting to see James Potter like this. Her heart lurched at how she remembered similar instances of a dejected Harry Potter and, _well_ , they really were different all together, but they still shared almost the same face. Hermione had to stop herself from wounding her arms around him for comfort, knowing it would only confuse him.

Confuse _her_ too, no doubt.

"What does Lily like?" he shyly asked, peering at Hermione with an uncertain smile on his face. "Her favourite food? Sweets? Hobbies maybe?"

"You're not giving up easily, are you?" she asked with a small laugh.

"James Potter? _Give up_?" he asked, pretend disdain on his face at the mere suggestion. "Never."

"I figured as much," Hermione said with a wide grin. James matched hers with his own lopsided grin and Hermione forced herself to look away, suddenly feeling uncomfortably warm. She loudly cleared her throat before adding, "Lily loves Chocolate Frogs the most. She's also obsessively collecting the cards, so every time we go to Hogsmeade, she buys a handful."

He nodded his head, intently listening to Hermione's words. "Okay, Chocolate Frogs. Got it."

The witch absentmindedly scratched her chin, trying to rack her brain for more of Lily's likes. "I'm sure she's fond of white lilies, too," she continued. "I caught her appreciating the wild lilies growing outside Hagrid's hut one time."

James made a sound in the back of his throat, most likely tucking that memory in his mind.

"And" – a huge grin appeared on Hermione's face – "Lily's hopelessly in love with The Beatles."

The Gryffindor knitted his eyebrows in confusion. "Beetles?" he echoed. "What kind? Well, that's some strange fascination, but if it's what Lily wants…"

"No, no, not beetles. _The Beatles_ ," Hermione corrected. James dumbly looked at her, still clearly confused. She laughed and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "Figures you wouldn't recognise them. They're a Muggle band, extremely famous too, mind you. Lily once said if a boy sang to her 'I Want to Hold Your Hand' whilst strumming a guitar, she'd snog him senselessly."

His eyes sparkled with interest at the mention of 'snogging'. "You must teach me," he demanded. "How to play a guitar. I've seen some of the boys tinkering with their guitars, but I never really bothered learning how to play one. You know how to play one, right?"

Hermione frowned. "Well I _know_ how but I haven't played in a while," she dubiously replied, knowing full well that the last time she had played a guitar was in her _past life_ , the day before she had Obliviated the Grangers and before she had gone on the run with her best friends.

"Good enough for me," he said with a shrug.

"I'm not even good," she insisted. "Why don't you ask the others to teach you?"

"Eh, why bother when I have a stellar tutor," he said, throwing her an easy wink.

She grimaced at his cheeky smile. "I don't even have a guitar," she protested. " _You_ don't even have a guitar." But James was already waving her off flippantly.

"Don't worry your bushy little head about those things," he said. "I'll handle the procurement of the instrument. Just make sure you can teach me how to play this song by The Bugs—"

"—The _Beatles_ —"

"—so that I can get a proper snog from Lily Evans after learning her favourite song." His eyes had already glazed over, most likely imagining Lily's wonderful reward for his hard work. His cheeks reddened but the ridiculous grin was still on his face. "What say you, Pettigrew?"

She groaned and tiredly rubbed her hand across her face. Looking at James right now, she knew he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. "You're incorrigible. Do you know that?" she snapped.

This only seemed to broaden his smile. "You did promise to help me in wooing Lily Evans," he pointed out.

Hermione sighed, wondering if it was the right thing to do after all.

" _Fine_ ," she relented. "But we can't practice playing guitar often. Merlin, it's your OWLs year and you should be focusing more on passing your exams with flying colours."

"Aren't I lucky I have the best tutor then?" he asked with a wide grin, waggling his eyebrows at her.

In spite of her frustration, Hermione found herself unable to suppress a laugh. " _Fine_ , Merlin," she repeated.

They finally reached the entrance of the Ravenclaw Tower and James gave his goodbyes. Before Hermione could enter her dormitory, she surreptitiously glanced at his retreating back, a warm smile spreading on her face.

James Potter was _definitely_ a wild card. One moment he would be impossibly pompous and confident, swaggering all over the Hogwarts corridors while playing pranks to unsuspecting victims. But then, he could be impossibly _sweet_ too, painstakingly learning the likes and dislikes of Lily Evans just to get her attention.

Hermione really had no idea how she should treat him whenever he was around.

The eagle door knocker suddenly cleared its throat. Hermione flinched, before she sheepishly looked back at the entrance door to her common room.

"Are you ready to enter?" it boomed.

Her cheeks flared in embarrassment. "Err… err, yes, of course," she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean, Aaron Taylor-Johnson from Nowhere Boy is the universally accepted fancast for James Potter so I really can't help myself with The Beatles reference hahaha.
> 
> Also, I wasn't sure when the 'Marauders' and their nicknames were coined. Research had been abysmal so I just decided that it'll happen once they've completed their Animagi forms in fifth year. Also, it's a nice excuse to write in James's POV too.


	11. chapter ten

* * *

**x.**

_**i don't want your wicked love** _

(Wicked Love by Sara Bareilles)

* * *

**November 30, 1975**

There was a huge commotion over at the Gryffindor table, and intrigued, Hermione looked up from her Arithmancy textbook to glance at the ruckus. A huge owl, larger than Hermione had ever seen, was flying over in the general direction of the Marauder's, before dropping a huge package in front of James. A few porridge bowls flew in various directions, drenching some of the poor Gryffindors in the process, but the Potter heir ignored their shrieks of annoyance.

James was grinning widely at his package and excitedly tore away the brown wrapping.

"That doesn't look like a broomstick," Lily quipped, a mixture of annoyance and curiosity in her green eyes.

"Who cares about whiny pompous gits like him?" Severus grumbled under his breath, pointedly ignoring James Potter and his merry band of pranksters.

Lily and Hermione exchanged a glance. Sev had been in such a sour mood these past few days. Lily thought he was merely stressed over the OWLs; Professor Slughorn had once said he'd expect no less than an 'O' in Sev's Potions OWLs. But Hermione had seen how Severus's mood worsened every time James proclaimed his love for Lily.

Although he was undoubtedly a Slytherin through and through, green definitely did not suit Severus Snape.

Once James was able to rip away the package paper, Hermione's eyes widened when she recognised a guitar case. Sirius and Peter were already marvelling his new instrument, trying to have a go at strumming it.

The hazel-eyed boy then looked over at the Ravenclaw table. Lily was already scowling, watching as his eyes searched for someone, and to Hermione's utmost surprise, James's eyes landed on her. His grin reached far and wide as he gestured excitedly at his new guitar and in spite of herself, Hermione smiled and rolled her eyes. This only made his smile grow as his eyes briefly landed on Lily's, the blush on his cheeks unmistakable.

' _I think I should start re-teaching myself how to play the guitar,'_ she thought to herself, knowing full well that James would start pestering her to teach him now.

* * *

**December 1, 1975**

"Good afternoon, Pettigrew."

Hermione's eyes widened, recognising Regulus Black's voice, and she immediately looked up from her Transfiguration essay. The youngest Black was impeccable as always, his black curls parted stylishly and held in place. He was wearing a handsome set of black robes and despite it being a weekend, he looked like he was going to attend a charity ball or something.

His grey eyes looked like molten mercury however, warm and definitely dangerous. A small smirk was plastered on his face, undoubtedly amused at the surprise on her face.

The Ravenclaw realised she had been staring and instantly shook her head. "Hello," she hesitantly greeted, frowning when his smirk turned into a full-fledged smile. Regulus invited himself over and sat on the chair opposite Hermione, placing his expensive leather satchel on top of the table. Hermione watched in confusion as he started pulling out his things and placing them on the table.

"What are you doing?" she dumbly asked, eyebrows knitting in confusion.

"Studying, obviously," he pointed out with a bemused smile. "I remember a certain brunette telling me during the first day of term that I should start studying soon."

Hermione's frown deepened as she swivelled her head around, noting that there were a lot of vacant tables, seeing that it was a Saturday and most of the students were probably still sleeping in or lounging around the Hogwarts grounds.

"I heard that Hermione Pettigrew was a brilliant study partner," he explained, recognising the confusion on her face. "I admittedly got curious, so here I am."

"Oh," she said, awkwardly scratching her chin with the tip of her quill.

Regulus quietly laughed and pointed at her chin. "You've got some ink smeared on your chin now, Pettigrew," he claimed.

"Right, of course," Hermione said with reddened cheeks and immediately rubbed the ink away.

His eyes lit up in amusement, before they flickered on the parchment in front of her. "What are you writing?" he casually asked.

He looked perfectly at ease when Hermione felt _anything_ but. Sev's warning back on the Hogwarts Express still rang loudly inside her head, and she wondered if Regulus was already dabbling with the Dark Arts. Or _worse_ , he was already acquainted with the Dark Lord. What if he had already seen that slimy snake? Shook hands with him? _Dined_ with him?

All these thoughts made Hermione sick in the stomach. It would be a bad idea to associate with someone so intricately tangled with Voldemort and his web of sorrow and destruction.

"Transfiguration essay," she curtly replied, realising she hadn't answered his question.

"The Cross-Spell Switches essay?" the Slytherin asked in surprise. After Hermione slowly nodded her head in confirmation, he smirked, "The deadline is two weeks from now, you know."

"Err… yes," she said, unsure of his statement. "I had nothing else to do so I figured I should start doing it now."

Regulus leaned back on his chair and crossed his arms against his chest. His silver eyes intently bore holes into Hermione, and the Ravenclaw fought her hardest not to squirm under his intense gaze.

"You have nothing else to do?" he quipped, quirking a perfectly arched eyebrow.

"Yes," she shot back with a frown.

His shoulders shook as he quietly laughed, his lips tightly pursed together to stop himself from bursting out into boisterous laughter. When he was like this, he looked like _Sirius_ and Hermione suddenly felt annoyed.

"What's funny?" she hissed, cheeks already warming with embarrassment.

But he shook his head and leant closer, placing his pointy, aristocratic chin on top of his upturned palm. "You don't mind if I start studying with you, Hermione Pettigrew?" he asked, amusement still in his eyes. "My other Housemates are terribly dull – in intelligence and humour, so to speak."

"And I'm not?" she quipped back, her eyebrows once again drawing together.

"Merlin, _no_ ," he shot back with a soft laugh. "You're the farthest girl I know from being dull. Maybe this year will be more tolerable if I started hanging around with you."

There was a certain bite in his tone when he spoke his last sentence. Hermione's eyes instantly snapped back to him, trying to gauge any hint of what he meant. But Regulus still looked mildly amused – _at her_ , to her disgruntlement – and did not give any indication of any meaning to his words.

Hermione once again remembered his behaviour back on the Hogwarts Express. The boy looked deeply troubled and Hermione couldn't help but compare him with the sixth year Draco Malfoy, who had been secretly working on an impossible task just to please the Dark Lord.

For a moment, terror struck her heart, wondering if he really was already dabbling in Voldemort's dangerous games. A loud siren rang inside Hermione's head and a voice that strangely sounded like a tired, terrified Harry Potter told her again and again, that she should run away, that she should _look_ away. Because the boy sitting across from her would only bring the danger and grief she had worked bloody fucking hard to run away from.

But… _but_ she remembered Draco Malfoy, sixteen and terrified and so, so _lost_ and Hermione had wondered then if they'd only reached out earlier, if Harry hadn't been obsessively trying to catch him red-handed… she wondered if the war could have changed course if they had put their hatred aside and reached out to Malfoy. Perhaps then, he wouldn't have let the Death Eaters in. Perhaps then, Albus Dumbledore wouldn't have died.

Swallowing down her trepidation, Hermione's eyes hardened as she looked once more at Regulus Black.

' _He isn't a Death Eater yet,'_ Hermione harshly told herself. _'He isn't. Not yet. He's just like all of us. A teenager in need of a study buddy.'_

' _But he soon will be,'_ Harry's sensible voice cut through her denials.

And Merlin it was the truth but Hermione… Hermione couldn't look away. Not yet, anyway. Not now, when the youngest Black only wanted a study partner, to exchange conversation about their lessons, and maybe some help with his homework.

' _Not yet, Harry,'_ she insisted with mighty resolve. _'Not yet.'_

Hermione took a deep breath and gave him a small, tentative smile.

"What are you planning to study today, Regulus?" she finally asked.

His eyes merely lit up in response.

* * *

**December 5, 1975**

"Sorry, I've got to go," Hermione said after briefly looking down at her wrist watch. She then proceeded to shove her things inside her bag, meaning she was unable to notice the surprised looks exchanged by Lily and Severus.

"Already, Hermione?" the older witch asked. "You haven't stayed in the library for over an hour yet, you know."

The brunette softly laughed. "I have something else to do," she said, thinking it would be better not to reveal to her best friends she was going to teach James Potter how to play a guitar to woo the redhead. Lily and Sev had already been complaining to her how easily she had agreed to let the Marauders study with her sometimes; she hazarded they wouldn't speak kindly now she was helping the pompous Gryffindor in winning Lily's heart.

"Well, that's bloody new," the sour Slytherin said with an eyebrow raise. "You never do anything _besides_ studying."

"That's not true," Hermione interjected, throwing a light glare towards him. "I do a lot of other things than studying."

"Like?" Lily had no qualms hiding her teasing grin, prompting Hermione to redden in annoyance.

"I have other things to do," she interjected once more, pointedly ignoring Lily's question. The younger witch both gave them a warning glare. "Don't start bickering. That might get you kicked out of the library."

Comically, Lily paled and grasped onto Hermione's hand. Severus, on the other hand, rolled his eyes and darkly muttered under his breath, this time pressing the tip of his quill on his parchment with more force than necessary.

"Please don't leave me alone with this sourpuss," Lily pleaded, looking genuinely worried. "I don't know what has gotten into him lately but he's been so… so… _incorrigible_."

Hermione merely laughed and engulfed the lovely redhead in her arms. "Just do what we usually do when Sev's in one of his moods, Lils," she said, patting her back comfortingly. "Leave him alone most of the time and poke him carefully if we need something from him."

"I'm right here, you know," Severus grumbled with a glower, but Lily merely giggled under her breath.

"I'll try to drop by later when I'm done with this thing," Hermione assured, but highly doubted she'd be done before curfew. James looked bloody set on mastering how to play a guitar _today_ and she knew he wouldn't let her leave until he had done so.

The brunette gave Lily a mighty squeeze before pulling away from her. She gave Severus a bright smile for goodbye, to which he only scowled at.

"Be nice," was Hermione's parting words. She finally walked out of the library and sauntered towards her meeting place with James. The Gryffindor once suggested they could hang out in the Gryffindor Common Room so that she could teach him there, but Hermione hastily declined. James had then asked why they couldn't go there since it was bloody convenient. Besides, his friends had other things to do than bother them, so Hermione didn't have to worry.

But Hermione still politely refused, insisting that an abandoned Charms classroom on the second floor could be their meeting place. It had been under renovation for years after a disastrous accident in the last decade, but the repercussions were too huge and the teachers had all agreed to move the Charms class into another room.

James finally agreed, but still looked mighty suspicious at her rejection. But how could she possibly tell him the Gryffindor Common Room held too many memories for her to handle? Granted, it might have looked different at this time period but _still_ , she doubted much would have changed. She'd rather not get teary while she taught him how to play his guitar, memories of Harry and Ron bickering over Wizard Chess near the roaring fire flooding her mind. It would raise too many questions.

When she arrived at the abandoned classroom, James was still nowhere to be found. Hermione wandered towards the teacher's desk at the very front and hopped onto it. It was one of the desks still mercifully intact in this room. Mostly everything at the back had been blasted into smithereens and no amount of magic could restore the damage or shift the leftover furniture.

"Whoa."

She blinked in surprise and looked at the new arrival. James was gaping at the disastrous part of the classroom, then comically looked at Hermione, still with wide eyes. "I would have paid a handsome sum just to witness whatever the hell happened here," he said, breaking into a brilliant smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle.

Hermione weakly smiled in return, then gestured at the guitar case slung over his shoulders. "Shall we start?" she asked.

James grinned and pulled a chair closer to Hermione. He plopped down and removed the new guitar from its case and Hermione's eyes widened, admiring the brand-new wood and the other parts of the instrument. She didn't doubt that this one would have cost a fortune. James Potter's parents really _doted_ on their son so much it was almost saddening, because Harry Potter was neglected all his life when his father had been showered with love and affection.

She secretly shook her head to get rid of any thoughts about Harry Potter. She was tasked to teach his father how to play a guitar to woo his mother, after all. Hermione couldn't afford to get distracted now.

"Do you know any chords?" she asked.

James scrunched up his nose and started strumming randomly. The resulting sound he made was atrocious to Hermione's ears. He sheepishly smiled upon seeing the look on her face. "Judging from your expression, I think you already know the answer," he replied.

Hermione heaved a deep sigh and pulled out her wand. Like clockwork, James hid his nose behind his hands.

"I'm not going to hex you," she laughed, then murmured a soft _'Muffliato'_ at the door.

"You can never be too careful," he murmured, cheeks tinging red.

"Merlin, that was ages ago," she reminded, but James scowled and started rubbing the tip of his nose. She grinned once more then started rummaging inside her backpack. She pulled out a sheet with written basic guitar chords and passed it over to James. He briefly scanned it and frowned, obviously unfamiliar with everything on it.

"Those are just the basics," she explained. "Playing the guitar is pretty simple once you get the hang of the basics. Most of the songs actually only use repeating chords." Hermione proceeded to point at each string and their corresponding note. James listened in rapt attention, deep concentration on his face every time Hermione listed down a pointer. "You have to press hard or else the sound won't be nice."

James sighed and thrust the guitar at her. "This is bloody hard," he complained. "Show it to me instead."

Hermione glared. "If you're giving up so easily, then I don't think you'll be able to play the guitar even if I tried to teach you," she hotly shot back.

The Gryffindor wearily sighed, but still persistently handed the guitar at the brunette. "Just show me, come on," he pleaded.

The brunette sighed and positioned the guitar in her arms. Although it had been a really long time since she had played, her hands mechanically went into position. She'd painstakingly learned by herself all those summers back when she was Hermione Granger. Her dentist father had been musically-inclined after all, and Hermione wanted to surprise him on his birthday by playing his favourite Beatles song, 'The Long and Winding Road'. Since then, besides reading, Hermione liked playing the guitar to pass the time.

"Fine," she gruffly said. "This is a G." She positioned her fingers then strummed twice. A pleasant melody echoed in the abandoned classroom and James's eyes lit up in delight. "This is A." She strummed once more. "And this is a D."

"Play a song," he suggested, his hazel eyes twinkling brightly even though the lights in the abandoned classroom were dim.

Hermione hesitated. "Well, I'm a little rusty because I haven't played for a while," she disclaimed.

James loudly snorted. "Hermione, really, I have no clue how to play a guitar so I can't really judge you if you played a wrong chord or something," he said, his lopsided grin once again plastered on his handsome face. "Go on. Show me. Play me a song, Hermione Pettigrew."

Her cheeks unwittingly flushed under his gaze and she ducked her head down before he could see it. "Fine," she answered haltingly. "There's only one song I've memorised so…"

He gave her his rapt attention when Hermione started strumming the chords to 'The Long and Winding Road'. James's eyes widened at her fingers, awed with her movements, and she softly laughed at the ridiculous look on his face. Not really a good singer, Hermione opted to hum the song under her breath, memories of Harold Granger with bright brown eyes and impossibly dishevelled curls swimming before her eyes. Although they weren't as openly affectionate as Anya Pettigrew, her parents had shown her how much they had loved her in their own little way. As Hermione continued strumming and humming the song under her breath, her heart lurched as she remembered how Harold's eyes lit up in recognition, a proud smile stretching wide on his face when Hermione strummed and sang through the song without any mistakes.

Her eyes watered slightly as she neared the end, remembering how Harold had engulfed her into a big bear hug and told her it was the best birthday gift he had ever had.

When she finished the song, she stared unseeingly for a while, wondering where Harold Granger was and if he had finally met Jean Lowell by now.

Her mind was brought back to reality when James broke into a slow clap. Hermione's cheeks flared and she lightly glared at him, but the Gryffindor merely laughed, his clap growing thunderous, as he also slid off his chair to give her his very own standing ovation.

"That was brilliant!" he exclaimed.

In spite of her embarrassment, Hermione snorted. "I'd like to think it's a compliment, but you did say you don't know anything about playing the guitar so you wouldn't be able to notice the slight mistakes I made," she pointed out.

"All right, all right, I think I'll be diligent enough now to study," he said, grasping the guitar from her hands to position it against his chest again.

A few minutes passed with James continuing to learn and Hermione pointing out his mistakes, and by the time it was nearing curfew, the Gryffindor had been able to finally learn the basic chords by memory. Hermione thought it was mighty unfair how he was able to at least get the hang of it in just a few hours. But he was _brilliant_ at it, and she knew that in no time, he'd be able to play even better than she could.

"We can start practicing 'I Wanna Hold Your Hand'," Hermione offered after glancing at her watch. "But it's nearing curfew."

"Tomorrow sounds fine," he said.

She glanced at him as if he'd gone barmy. " _No_ ," she corrected. "Tomorrow, we're going to study for your OWLs."

James didn't look pleased. "Herms, really," he said, prompting Hermione's lips to curl in disdain at the awful nickname, "there are far more important things than studying."

"Like learning how to play a guitar?" she sputtered out, disbelieving his words.

"Like wooing a girl, who by the way, will most likely be the future Mrs. Potter," he elaborated with a lazy smirk.

Hermione's hand twitched, but she was determined not to smack her forehead in frustration. "Why do you like Lily so much?" she asked before she could stop herself.

James's eyes widened at her question, before a small, besotted smile grew on his face. "Lily has the prettiest eyes," he pointed out. "Have you seen her eyes?"

"I'm her best friend, you berk," she shot out with a flourished eye roll. "I see her eyes all the time."

"But have _you_ really seen them?" he insisted. "They're like – I dunno – shooting stars when they're twinkling brightly." He blushed and awkwardly chuckled as he ran a hand through his dishevelled hair. "And, you know, I think pursuing her is a goddamn challenge. The thrill of it all – like how you're trying to learn a difficult spell. Once you get it right, euphoria." His hazel eyes intently focused on Hermione. "It's a little exciting to know that she doesn't give up easy. Because once she relents and goes out with me, I'm sure it will all be worth it."

By the time he was finished with his explanation, Hermione was frowning. "This isn't a game, Potter," she deliberately said, watching as confusion appeared on his face. "Lily is not some prize to win."

"I know that," he shot back with a frown.

"Do you?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow. "If you finally get together and the _euphoria_ of winning, of conquering a _challenge_ , fizzled, what then?"

It disturbed her deeply when James grew sombre and a little confused. "But—" He bit his bottom lip and slightly glared at Hermione. "We'll cross the bridge once we get there, yeah?"

"Lily's my best friend," Hermione hotly replied. "If you're just going to hurt her, then I think you shouldn't waste your bloody time, Potter."

Hermione bit her tongue hard after such an accusation, silently berating herself for even spouting the words. James and Lily were supposed to be together so that Harry Potter would be born, _right_? She shouldn't reprimand this boy – although, he rightfully deserved it as a berk – and discourage him from pursuing her lovely best friend.

"I'm not going to hurt her," he defended, his cheeks red once more but this time due to annoyance. "I'm _trying_ to learn her favourite song, am I not? I don't think a bastard would even bother doing all of this if he's just in it for the thrill of it."

The brunette deflated and looked properly shamefaced. "Right, of course," she said with a sigh. "I'm sorry. That was terribly presumptuous of me."

James tightly clenched his jaw, but then finally nodded slightly to acknowledge her apology.

"We can practice again tomorrow," she offered as her apology. James's hazel eyes glinted in excitement, but Hermione wasn't done. " _After_ you've reviewed your fourth year Potions. Although pursuing relationships you deem worthy of your time is important, studying hard for your future career shouldn't be neglected."

"Fine," he sourly said, although his hazel eyes were still glinting in amusement. "Peter wasn't kidding when he said his sister's a bossy, know-it-a—OW!"

"Berk," she glowered, but James merely laughed as he absentmindedly rubbed his smarting arm.

* * *

**February 28, 1976**

Hermione's throat ran dry as she stared at the familiar parchment on top of the table.

She was once again in the library, goading Peter and his friends into studying for their OWLs now that they were fast approaching. Lily had already retired to bed for the night, fed up with James Potter's constant boisterous wooing. Severus, as usual, never approached their table if the Marauders were present.

The said Gryffindors' minds were far from their OWLs, even studious Remus, as they excitedly showed her one of their projects since their fourth year.

"Now, Hermione, consider this as a privilege," Sirius told her, his grey eyes staring deeply into hers. "No one in this school except the four of us knows what we have been creating."

"Best map Hogwarts has ever seen," James eagerly said, practically brimming with excitement as he pulled out his wand and tapped the end of it on the parchment.

"It's a bit tricky," Remus said with a reverent nod. "It requires skill and the perfect execution of the Homonculus Charm. Are you aware of that spell?"

Even before she could answer, James and Peter claimed, "Of course she is!" Madame Pince harshly shushed them quiet, but the boys merely smirked and ducked their heads nearer the quiet brunette.

"I am," Hermione croaked, smiling kindly at the future Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. "It lets you track the movements of every person in a mapped area."

Remus nodded his head. "Yes," he replied, "and besides mastering this charm, you should also have extensive knowledge of every nook and cranny of whatever mapped area you want."

"And in this case, we want one of our legacies as Marauders to be a completed, perfect map of Hogwarts – people and secret passages and all - for future generations of pranksters," Sirius added. "Please tell me we're bloody brilliant, kitten. If it came from you, then we will all feel wonderfully validated. Which was why we wanted it to be _you_ who knew about this secret project of ours."

Hermione's eyes widened when she looked at each of their eager faces. It flattered her greatly that they wanted her approval. "It _is_ bloody brilliant," she said, chuckling softly when their eyes comically lit up with her praise. "I mean, like what you said, it takes great skill to master the Homonculus Charm. But, are you quite sure this map will show _all_ the secret passages in this school?"

"Of course it will," James hotly defended. "We're _Marauders_ and – _well_ – we have a way of covering all the secret passages and places in Hogwarts to put in this map."

"Like when you turn into an Animagus?"

" _Exactly_ , I me— _what_?"

Sirius, James, and Remus all gaped at her in surprise. "How in Merlin's name—" Hermione was unable to hold in her snort when all of their heads swivelled around to throw an accusatory glare at her sheepish brother. "Bloody fucking _Peter_."

"It's all right," Hermione laughed as Peter shrank lower in his seat. "I'm not going to tell anybody."

Remus suddenly paled and was unable to meet Hermione's eyes. "He didn't say anything else?" he casually asked, trying to sound nonchalant, but his tensed jaw and pale face gave away his terror.

Hermione's heart swelled at his obvious nervousness. "What else does he need to tell me?" she asked, feigning confusion.

The werewolf visibly relaxed and shot another glance at Peter. Her brother's blue eyes were boring intently into Remus, as if wordlessly communicating that his secret was still safe among them, before Remus strongly nodded his head and looked back at Hermione.

"Is it done yet?" Hermione asked, curiously peering over the parchment.

"No, not yet," Sirius said with a disappointed sigh. "We still haven't covered most of the east part of Hogwarts. That will take a few more full mo – _err_ , months." Sirius darted a sheepish smile at Remus for his almost slip.

" _And_ ," James added, "we wanted to place a spell or something on the parchment before its secrets are revealed. There's a spell for that, mind you, and Moony has been practicing it for months. Sort of like the _Revelio_ Charm. But more than that, we wanted to come up with a password – an _oath_ – by the possessor of the map, promising that he will put the map to good use."

The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop herself. "How about… _I solemnly swear that I am up to no good_?" Hermione's mouth dropped open at her words, and she mentally smacked herself for carelessly muttering the words she had heard Harry utter countless times during their adventures. "I – I mean, since you said this map is designed with future generations of pranksters in mind and… um… yes…"

The Marauders stilled, then slowly looked at each other.

"That was—" Peter faltered, a deep frown appearing on his face.

"I mean we _could—_ " Sirius beamed, ruffling his curls.

"It's like an _oath_ —" James helpfully supplied.

Remus blinked then beamed at Hermione. "I should give it a try," he announced. Then, pointing the tip of his wand on the parchment, he whispered, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

They watched with bated breath as an accurate drawing of Hogwarts appeared on the cover. Hermione laughed when she read their familiar greeting. "Berks," she called out, but the Marauders were proudly grinning in return.

"We should utter a phrase too to keep it hidden once more," Sirius suggested. "We can't let other bastards see our work of art when they're just going to bloody confiscate it."

This time, Hermione sighed in relief when she didn't sputter out the familiar phrase that would conceal the map.

" _Peace out, pranksters,_ " James deadpanned. Sirius snickered under his breath while Remus rolled his eyes.

"Not catchy enough, Prongsie," the Black heir pointed out.

"How about… _Our work is done_?" Remus offered with a shrug.

Both James and Sirius scrunched up their noses. "Terribly dull, Remus, what the hell," James pointed out.

"Oh, oh!" Peter exclaimed, excitedly waving his arm in the air to get their attention.

"Merlin's balls, Peter, you don't have to raise your hand to offer a suggestion," Sirius said with a loud snort.

"How about… _Mischief managed_?" Peter's eyes were twinkling, obviously fond with his suggestion.

Hermione couldn't help it; she _smiled_ upon hearing the famous line.

"How are you so good at this, Petey?" James gushed out, awe in his eyes. "You're the one who even suggested what our group should be called." His hazel eyes briefly landed on Hermione, prompting him to widen his smile. "Look, even _Hermione_ loved it."

James then cleared his throat and looked at his friends. "Messrs," he drawled, "all in favour say 'aye'."

"Aye," the other three chanted.

They all grinned as their eyes landed on Hermione, expectant.

"What?" she asked with a confused laugh. "Me too?"

"Just bloody say 'aye', kitten, if you love it," Sirius pointed out.

Hermione laughed and softly uttered "Aye".

"All right," Remus said as he pointed his wand at the parchment once more. " _Mischief managed_."

The words and Hogwarts logo slowly vanished.

The Marauders' smiles were blinding by then.

* * *

**June 10, 1976**

Hermione luxuriously stretched her arms overhead and sighed when she heard satisfying cricks from her bones.

Fourth year was drawing to an end and blessedly, Hermione still found herself very much alive and not entangled in some ridiculous adventure that would have cost her her life. She was still steadily at the top of her class and all was going really rather well. Hermione felt like she was settling well in this world and that was all that really mattered.

She greeted some of the familiar students as she finally walked out of the castle. The sun was high and bright overhead and the sky was cloudless and clear. It was undeniably a beautiful day and it was a shame it was OWLs week for the fifth years. She could have hung out with Lily and Severus near their usual tree at the Black Lake and just lazed around conversing about random things.

But her two best friends were frazzled over the exams. Severus hadn't slept properly in days and had skipped showering again. Hermione had incessantly told him he wouldn't fail his bloody exams if he only washed his _hair_ but the sourpuss glared at her darkly and continued muttering different Potion ingredients under his breath. Lily was marginally better than Sev, but she had become quite tetchy for the past few days. Hermione reverently stayed by their sides though, offering help if they asked for it. But most of the time, she would silently watch in amusement as her best friends broke down quite a few times as the OWLs neared.

Since it was Thursday, they had just finished their Defence Against the Dark Arts exam. They had Transfiguration tomorrow and Hermione, having nothing left to do for the week, promised to quiz her best friends about random Transfiguration questions that would most likely appear in their OWLs.

Hermione's happiness dampened a bit when two excited third years rushed past her, one of them bumping against her, but not even stopping to apologise. The brunette lightly glared at her back, but when her eyes strayed at where the running girls were going, her jaw dropped.

Right in front of her were the cackling Marauders, James's wand brandished and pointing menacingly at an upturned Severus. The Slytherin's robe had fallen over his head, exposing Sev's greying underpants. It mortified Hermione how everyone was laughing at his expense and although Sev's face was covered, she was sure that he was already red in the face.

James, Sirius, and even _her brother_ were roaring with laughter and Hermione could feel bile rising up in her throat. Here she thought they had somehow changed their ways after she had agreed to tutor them. Here she thought that _James_ had changed, remembering the bespectacled wizard had promised he'd stop tormenting Severus if Hermione would start helping him woo Lily.

"LET HIM DOWN!" a fiery redhead screamed. Lily was already red in the face and furiously lashing out at James.

The pompous Gryffindor glanced towards Lily with a frown. "Fine," he sighed. With a mighty flick, his charm vanished and Severus fell unceremoniously on the ground. Hermione's eyes prickled when she saw clear mortification on his face, but the Slytherin's black eyes were burning with unadulterated fury.

The Slytherin quickly darted towards his fallen wand, but Sirius was fast. " _Petrificus Totalus_!" he exclaimed. The spell hit Severus squarely on his chest and he toppled forward with a dull thud on the ground.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Lily shrieked, stomping her feet angrily as she pulled out her wand and threateningly pointed it towards the Black-Potter duo.

This snapped Hermione into action as she hastily ran forward.

"Evans, come on, don't make me hex you too," James pleaded, his hazel eyes still trained intently on the tip of her wand.

Hermione stumbled forward and landed beside Severus.

"Take the curse off him," the brunette snarled, her blue eyes narrowed angrily at the Marauders. She tried to catch Peter's eyes, but he was steadfastly ignoring her. Instead, she directed her eyes at both James and Sirius.

"Kitten, please, stay out of this," Sirius sighed.

"You heard Hermione!" Lily shrieked. "Take the _damn_ spell off."

"Fine, Merlin," James cried exasperatedly. He flicked his wand once more and Severus was already furiously climbing onto his feet.

"Sev…" Hermione cautiously called as she tried to latch onto his wrist. But Severus looked inconsolable, like a volcano ready to erupt and cause destruction in his wake, no matter who was in the way.

Even _Lily_.

Hermione immediately stood up when she heard James say, "There you go, Snivellus. You're lucky Evans was here, or I would have—"

"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!"

' _Fuck,'_ Hermione internally screamed, watching as Lily's face crumpled like she had been slapped painfully across her face. _'Fuck. Fuck. Fuck_. _'_

Severus looked clearly horrified at his words. "I didn't—" His words were left unheard as Lily's face morphed into unadulterated anger and whipped away from him.

"APOLOGISE TO EVANS, YOU FUCKI—"

Lily angrily shot a spell towards James that turned his legs into jelly. The Gryffindor stared at her in shock, watching warily as Lily stomped closer to him, her wand still trained intently on him. "I don't want you to make him apologise," she harshly cried. "You're as bad as he is."

"Lily…" Hermione cried, but her best friend stubbornly refused to look her way. The brunette looked over at Severus and saw him breathing deeply, eyes still furiously dark. She wasn't entirely sure who he was furious with anymore.

"What?" James exclaimed. He undid her spell and sprang back onto his feet. "I'd _never_ call you a – a you-know-what, Lily!"

The angry redhead closed the few remaining gaps between them and pointed her wand underneath his chin. James visibly swallowed nervously and had blessedly shut up. "Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick," she snarled, ignoring how James was steadily growing redder with her words, "showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can – I'm _bloody_ surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with your fat head on it. YOU MAKE ME SICK, JAMES POTTER!"

Her angry tirade rang loudly in the open field. Even the spectators had grown quiet after Lily's outburst. James by then was red from his neck up to the roots of his hair.

Lily pushed him away with all her might. James would have almost toppled backwards, if Sirius hadn't broken his fall. The irate witch then turned away and ran back inside without a single glance back.

"Evans!" James called after her. "LILY!"

Hermione watched warily as Lily's furious stomps hastened. She wouldn't even be surprised if there were already tears pouring down from her eyes.

She glanced at her other silent best friend and glared. "You really had to call her that despicable word, Sev?" she growled.

Severus stiffened and clenched his hands into fists at his sides. He didn't offer an answer to Hermione's accusation.

"What is with her?" James complained, clearly put-out by Lily's words.

Sirius grinned and placed a hand on top of James'. "Reading between the lines," he started with a snicker, "I'd say she thinks you're a bit conceited, mate."

" _A bit_ ," Hermione shrieked, snapping her head quickly in their direction. "Biggest understatement of the year, Black."

James looked positively livid now. "Right," he growled. "Right." He pointed his wand at Severus once more and hotly hollered for all of the spectators to hear, "Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?"

"Enough!" the brunette roared, stepping in between the furious boys to stop any spells from hurtling.

"Hermione," Peter pleaded, finally catching her eyes. "Just… just stay away."

"Like hell I will!" she bellowed. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Severus direct his wand at James, a spell – most likely a _dark_ one – on the tip of his tongue. But Hermione turned to him and placed both of her hands on his chest. "Back away, _Sev_. I'm warning you."

"Let me have a go at him, Hermione," he angrily snarled. "Just let me _fucking—_ "

A light whizzed past her curls and almost hit Severus on his face. It was lucky he was fast enough to duck away.

Hermione turned on her heel and scowled at James, whose wand was raised once more and pointed in their general direction. "Really, Potter?" she cried.

"I don't want to hex you either, Hermione," he snapped, hazel eyes still trained intently at Severus. "Stay out of this."

"I am so _tired_ of being told what to do," she snarled, stomping closer to James to forcefully bat his hand away. He looked very displeased with her actions as he finally directed his gaze down at her. "Just get out of here, Potter. You've had your fun."

"You don't understand!" he yelled, angrily pointing his wand at Severus. " _He_ called Lily that stupid name. How can you still defend him?"

"Let me deal with my own _friends_ , Potter," she clipped, matching his irate glare with an equally powerful one. "Get the hell out of here."

James's jaw tensed. "I don't like being told what to do either," he coldly replied.

Remus finally thought it was the right time to intervene. He shot forward and wrapped a tight hand around James's arm. "Come on, James. I think we should just go," he appeased.

When Hermione felt Severus move behind her, she glanced over her shoulder with lightning speed. "Don't even think about it, Sev," she warned. The Slytherin briefly glared at her but blessedly faltered, deliberately pocketing his wand.

" _Fine_ ," James snapped. Hermione's gaze landed back on him. "I still don't think you should be hanging around people who carelessly throw slurs at their friends."

The Ravenclaw scoffed. "And you think you're _different_ than him?" she snapped. "You're nothing but an arrogant bully, James Potter. Lily was right; you're a bloody _toerag_." Her heart clenched tightly, painfully, an invisible hand wrapping tighter and tighter until her chest hurt. James was wearing Harry's face and it hurt her heart to see him defile her best friend's face with his arrogant words and bullying jibes. "I expected so much from you, James."

She uttered the last words in a whisper and for a moment, James's hazel eyes widened in surprise. It was brief, however, as anger clouded his face once more and he stiffly allowed Remus to finally pull him away.

Hermione's shoulders sagged, knowing the fight was already over. James had his head held high as Remus incessantly tugged him away. Sirius glared at Hermione and immediately ran ahead to follow his best friends. Peter had thrown her a look that was mixture of apology and disappointment, before looking away and following his friends.

But Hermione's relief was premature, for Sirius suddenly skidded to a halt and turned around. Hermione's hand tightened around her wand but Sirius steadfastly ignored her and instead glared challengingly at the silent Slytherin behind her.

"Say, Snivelly," he snapped, a dangerous glint in his steely grey eyes, "if you really want to have a go at us, why don't you meet us this Saturday at the Shrieking Shack at around midnight? What say you?"

Hermione was at first confused with his specific instructions, but when she saw how Remus paled and froze, horror bloomed in her heart.

Her eyes widened in disbelief; she knew they all hated Severus but she didn't know they would be _this_ petty to lure him out unprepared, not knowing at all that a werewolf was lurking around.

"Sirius!" Remus harshly reprimanded. Even James looked surprised with Sirius's challenge. The werewolf threw a panicked glance at the bespectacled boy. "Tell Sirius he shouldn't bloody push through with this."

"Padfoot, mate. I don't think that's a good idea. It's…" James trailed off, uncertainly looking at Severus.

But Hermione knew the damage was already done. When she glanced at her best friend, there was suspicion in his eyes. She knew Severus already had suspicions about Remus – he had once reckoned he always looked tired to the bone once a month – and to see that it was him who had reacted badly to Sirius's challenge, Sev's curiosity was piqued.

Peter then quickly clambered towards Sirius and pulled him away. The four Marauders meandered through the gathered crowd without another single glance back.

"You," Hermione breathed out once the crowd had thinned and the Marauders were far away. She levelled her gaze at Severus, who slightly shrank back. "We need to talk."

**-ooo-**

"Lily hates me."

Hermione stopped her pacing and finally faced her best friend.

After that exhausting debacle, Hermione purposively pulled him along until they had reached the very back of the library. Blessedly, students had steered clear from this room now that summer was nearing. Besides Madame Pince and a handful of scattered students around, there was no one else in this room that would bother them.

Severus looked bloody exhausted, now that she properly looked at him. There were dark bags under his eyes and his hair was the greasiest she had ever seen. He looked like he hadn't been sleeping enough, _eating_ enough, and she knew that he had been obsessing over getting acceptable scores for his OWLs.

"That was a hateful word, Sev," she whispered, plopping down on the seat beside him.

The Slytherin guiltily hid his face behind his hands. "I know," he grunted. A pause. " _Gods_ , I'm so fucking stupid. I can't believe—" He swallowed thickly and pulled his hands away. His eyes were shining and Hermione thought he would start crying. But no tears fell. "The Slytherins used it all the time and I never… _I vowed_ never to use that because Lily and— but I was so exhausted from the OWLs, and Potter was a _fucking_ berk, and I was so _fucking_ embarrassed and I just— I didn't mean it."

He paused and took a deep shuddering breath. "Lily hates me," he mournfully repeated.

"You should apologise to her," she insisted.

Severus quietly snorted. "And you think she'll forgive me?" he dubiously asked. "I've been best friends with her for _years_ , Hermione. Even longer than you've known her. She wouldn't— I'm sure she wouldn't even talk to me if I tried."

"Are we really talking about Lily right now?" she asked. "Because the Lily Evans I know has a big, golden heart and even the vilest wizard can squeeze a way into it if he tried really, _really_ hard."

In spite of himself, he hollowly laughed. "Not before she hexed his ballsacks off, I'm sure," he pointed out.

Hermione softly chuckled. "That's Lily Evans, all right," she said.

The laughter died from his lips as Severus remorsefully glanced at his hands. "I really didn't mean it," he whispered.

The brunette expelled a mighty sigh and leant forward. "I really hated how you carelessly threw that slur," she confessed. He flinched at her words, but didn't reply. "Lily must have been really hurt. You know how she's anything _but_ that."

"Of course," he croaked. "Of course, Hermione. _Of course_."

The corner of her lips twitched into a small smile. "It was a shitty day for all of you and James Potter just had to—" She paused to swallow down her anger. "Just apologise to Lily, Sev. If you really mean it, and promise to never hurt Lily with your words anymore, then we're all good. I can't just… I can't just stand back and watch as my two best friends stop talking to each other."

Severus ran a tired hand through his hair. "I'll try," he promised.

"Not good enough," Hermione snapped, furiously shaking her head. "You have to _do_. Apologise, Severus Snape."

"Fine," he sighed. "But maybe I should just give her some time to simmer down…"

Hermione didn't have a good retort to that because she knew Lily would need time. Her temper was as fiery as her auburn hair after all.

"Fine," Hermione echoed. "And promise me that you will not listen to Sirius and stupidly go to the Shrieking Shack on Saturday."

He knitted his eyebrows and looked away.

" _Promise_ me, Sev," she insisted.

" _Fine_ ," he ground out, but his eyes were still averted. "I'm not _that_ stupid, Hermione."

The brunette bit back a groan.

He was bloody stupid because she sure as hell knew he would still go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course 'Snape's worst memory' will make an appearance in this story. That's the scene that showed the Marauders in action in canon after all. That part was almost verbatim, but I've tweaked it to fit Hermione in the scene.
> 
> Also, lmao now I understand why some people are starting to ship Regulus and Hermione. It wasn't really my intention. I promise hahaha. This is still a James/Hermione fic. I've already written a lot of chapters for this fic so please, please, please don't beg me to change the ship anymore. Maybe I'd write a Regulus/Hermione fic after this though. Hmm…
> 
> So, anyway, next chapter is the last chapter set in Hermione's fourth year. Things will be basically very eventful.
> 
> Finally, just a gentle reminder that Hermione is very sad and tired after everything Hermione Granger had gone through. Of course she'll be slightly different from canon Hermione.


	12. chapter eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Beta got excited with this chapter and edited it immediately. Thank you to lozipozivanillabean. She'd been editing like crazy for the past few days so I think the real hero of this story is her hahahaha. I was excited to post this too so I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

* * *

**xi.**

_**forgiveness is a lesson he cursed you to learn** _

(Uneven Odds by Sleeping at Last)

* * *

**June 12, 1976**

Hermione stared at the canopy of her bed and waited for midnight.

She had gone through the day in a daze, mechanically finishing her Herbology essay, which she knew she hadn't written properly. Hermione had religiously stayed beside Severus in case he showed any signs of breaching his promise and going to the Shrieking Shack later that night, but Sev had been normal all throughout the day. He still shot longing looks at the back of Lily's fiery red head, the Gryffindor now opting to sit at the Gryffindor table with Marlene McKinnon and Mary MacDonald. Lily still warmly greeted Hermione, gave her hugs and talked to her when they crossed paths, but she had been steering clear of her too, because the Ravenclaw made it a point to keep an eye on Severus. Although she missed Lily terribly, she reckoned that Severus needed her more than Lily did.

Mercifully, the day came into an end. Severus quietly ate with her at the Ravenclaw table. With Lily not accompanying them, conversations between them were curt and only necessary. Lily was the chatterbox after all, and she never ran out of words. Severus was still lost in his sea of despondence to converse with her. Hermione was busy trying to come up with any exit plans if Severus really did choose to go after the Marauders.

Suffice to say, the two had so many other things on their minds that they didn't really notice the quiet between them.

The brunette then slowly sat up once she saw that her wristwatch had now struck midnight. She hadn't bothered to remove her school uniform from the day, too tired to change into her pyjamas when she knew she'd be gone at night anyway. Hermione grabbed one of her thick, blue woollen sweaters and donned it over her head. She then pointed her wand at her black shoes to silence her footsteps.

Slowly drawing away her bed curtains, Hermione furtively glanced around her dormitory. Alex, Michelle and Dorothy were blessedly fast asleep as Hermione stood up from her bed. She darted a quick, amused glance at the towering books on Dorothy's bedside table – the girl was definitely a more ferocious bookworm than Hermione could ever dream of.

She then quietly meandered through the stream of strewn clothes on the floor courtesy of Alex, and had to bite her bottom lip to stop herself from chuckling when Michelle released loud, adorable snores. Once she had stumbled out of their dormitory without rousing any of her roommates, Hermione expelled an inaudible sigh.

She then peeked at their airy common room and was relieved that no one was awake at this time of night. Normally, the Ravenclaw common room was still brimming with students despite this late hour, as most were slaving over an essay or diligently reading in advance for their future lessons. But seeing that it was nearing summer vacation, almost all of the Claws had started to relax.

Hermione daintily stepped down the stairs and briefly admired the empty common room. While the Gryffindor Common Room screamed cosiness and warmth, the Ravenclaw Common Room boasted airiness and space. Hermione had admittedly stared when she had first walked into her new common room, marvelling at the rich, midnight blue carpet decorated with stars, which was reflected wonderfully by the glass, domed ceiling. Since this was the house that appreciated studying the most, there were numerous individual desks surrounding the periphery of the circular common room. They were positioned in the perfect places, because you could admire the beauty of Hogwarts when you peered through the huge, arched windows. In the middle were royal blue couches and some elegant chairs, a place for relaxing for tired students. The fire in the fireplace by then was crackling low since no one was around to reignite it.

After another huge sweep, Hermione was convinced that no one was there to witness her rule breaking. With a twirl of her wand over her head, she murmured a soft incantation and instantly blended in with her surroundings. She wished that her Disillusionment Charm would hold until she walked out of the castle.

Luck may have been with her that day, for she was able to roam through the empty corridors without encountering any authorities. By the time Hermione had burst through the oak doors, a gust of warm wind brushed her flushed cheeks. The full moon above was huge and ominous, and Hermione fervently prayed to whomever could hear that Severus wasn't stupid enough to go to the Shrieking Shack.

' _Might as well get this over with,'_ she told herself, as Hermione purposively sped through the huge expanse of the Hogwarts grounds until she spied the Whomping Willow in the distance.

Dread grew in the pit of her stomach when she saw that it was unmoving. She was able to make out a silhouette, both hands pressed tightly against the giant knot on the bark of the tree. Hermione urged her feet to go faster and swore under her breath when she saw Severus's pale face.

"I bloody well knew you were going to be an _idiot_!" she harshly whispered, cautiously eyeing the immobilised Whomping Willow in case it started to move again.

"Hermione?" Severus called out, wildly looking around to locate her.

Realising she was still under the Disillusionment Charm, Hermione waved her wand once more to undo the spell. The Slytherin's eyes instantly landed on her when she became visible.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he angrily snarled. "Go back inside, Pettigrew. It's— I have a bad feeling that this is going to be _dangerous_."

"What the hell are _you_ doing here then?" she sniped back. He scowled at the thunderous expression on her face. "You promised you would not come here tonight, Sev."

He angrily looked away from her glaring eyes. "I was curious, all right?" he drawled back. "It was suspicious why Black specifically said those instructions." His narrowed, black eyes landed back on her. "Admit it, Hermione. You were curious too."

Hermione wanted to scream bloody murder for the sudden turn of events. "Let's just go back, Sev, _please_ ," she begged. "Black is a _berk_. He's just pulling your leg."

"No," he grounded out. "There's something—"

His words died down from his lips when a loud howl somewhere in the distance resounded in the whole, empty field. Severus's eyes widened and he instantly ducked inside the tunnel. Hermione shot forward and closely followed behind, already pulling her wand out to defend them.

"Sev, _please_ ," she tried once more, blood now pounding loudly inside her ears as they neared the ground floor of the Shrieking Shack. Memories of her third-year adventures came crashing back to her like a huge tidal wave, drowning her deeper and deeper with harrowing thoughts of werewolves and danger and… and… _bloody fucking hell_ , they should go back.

Hermione tightly wrapped a hand around his arm and tried to pull him away, but the idiot was stubborn and continued to trudge on.

They finally arrived inside the ground floor of the Shrieking Shack. It was relatively cleaner than the last time she'd been here. It was obviously recently occupied, too, because there were half-eaten plates of treacle tarts and mugs of lukewarm coffee scattered on the dusty floor. Hermione was also able to notice decent pieces of furniture that weren't there before, even some fluffy pillows and clean blankets dumped haphazardly on a worn, squashy, maroon couch.

"Where the hell are we?" Severus harshly whispered.

"The Shrieking Shack," Hermione deadpanned.

His eyes widened as he looked at the brunette. " _What_?" he gasped.

An ear-splitting howl, one that was louder – _closer_ – than the last one they heard rang throughout the shack, reverberating through the rickety wood of the haunted establishment. Hermione instantly latched onto Severus's arm, her nails digging quite painfully on his skin. But the Slytherin didn't mind, too busy backing off slowly when thundering footsteps were heard from above.

"I told you we should have gone back," Hermione half-whispered and half-shrieked. "You idiot. _You idiot_. You should have listened to me!"

A menacing growl echoed in the shack and both Hermione and Severus took a few more steps back, eyeing the stairs with bated breath. Hermione swallowed down a scream when an oversized rat suddenly ran down the stairs. She immediately recognised her brother's Animagus form as the rat started to wildly shriek.

Severus eyed the rat with unconcealed disgust. A huge, black dog then jumped down from the stairs and loudly barked at the pair. He tried to nip Sev's leg, seemingly urging them to leave, but the Slytherin growled at it in annoyance and tried to cast a spell on him.

" _Don't_ ," Hermione harshly whispered, tightly clutching onto his wand arm.

"Bloody mutt's trying to bite my leg off," he complained.

"We should leave, Severus," she snapped and grabbed onto his hand once more to pull him away.

Her finally relented and allowed Hermione to yank him away. The brunette saw a brief flash of white from behind them, but she was already busily pulling him towards the tunnel hole they'd come from. But, they hadn't even gone a few steps when suddenly there was a mighty thud from behind.

Everything had gone deathly quiet. Even the rat's skittering and the dog's boisterous barking had ceased. Although their backs were still turned, Hermione could feel a piercing stare on her back that made the hairs on her neck stand on end. A footstep then echoed from behind, then another, and _another_ , until Hermione could feel warm breath wafting against her exposed skin.

"Is that—"

Sev's terrified question was cut off when another piercing howl thundered around the whole shack.

"RUN!" Hermione shrieked and dashed through the tunnel without a single glance back, fervently praying that Severus had listened to her this time.

She flew through the dark tunnel as fast as she could. Adrenaline coursed through her veins and despite the stitches in her side, she continued to run.

Hermione could already spy their exit, but the Whomping Willow had awoken. Its unforgiving branches were twisting around.

" _IMMOBULUS_!" she shrieked. The spell hit one of its branches and it blessedly stayed still once more. She chanced a glance over her shoulder and was relieved that Severus's pale face was closely behind. But Hermione also made a mistake of looking over the Slytherin's shoulder. Remus' familiar golden eyes stared back at her, his pupils blown wide as he continued to chase the two humans.

"Fuck, Hermione, don't get distracted now!" Severus hollered.

The brunette finally stumbled out of the tunnel and hastily grabbed onto Sev's hand. "Hurry, hurry," she pleaded, her vision already getting blurry with the terrified tears running down her face.

She could make out numerous footsteps from behind and reckoned the Marauders had also followed them out.

Hermione then made a split decision in leading the chase towards the Forbidden Forest. At least in there, they would be away from any other students who might fall victim to the werewolf.

Severus was loudly cursing behind her and tried to throw spells over his shoulders.

" _No_ ," she grounded out. "You can't. You know you can't hit him, Sev."

A werewolf's fur was impenetrable to any kind of magic, which was why the best solution every time you came across a hungry werewolf was to _run_.

Hermione managed to pull Severus behind a huge tree and they held their breaths as they hid. Remus was growling lowly under his breath as his golden eyes swept around to search for his victims.

"I knew it," Severus kept muttering under his breath.

"Shut up!" Hermione shrieked quietly, covering his mouth with one of her hands. She trained her ears intently for any tell-tale signs of the furious werewolf. Another howl broke through the night and Hermione unconsciously shivered, drawing closer to Severus for some semblance of comfort. The Slytherin automatically gripped her arm, tightly so, but Hermione was too busy breathing quietly to notice the pain.

Even the whole forest was deathly silent as they waited with bated breath. The usual twittering of night birds and rustling of leaves were absent and Hermione tightly closed her eyes, wishing there was at least some noise that could mask her loudly beating heart.

Severus suddenly stiffened and Hermione bit back a sob. She felt his breath even before she opened her eyes. Warm air fanned along her exposed neck and she tightly pressed herself against the Slytherin.

"Fuck," Severus moaned. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

Remus suddenly bared his teeth and tried to slash at them, but Hermione immediately pushed Severus away and ducked on the ground. Severus toppled onto his side and tried to hastily get up, but his robes got stuck in a thorny bush.

The werewolf's eyes were trained intently on Hermione as she slowly backed away. "Remus, _Remus_ ," she begged, raising her right hand to gesture that she meant no harm. "It's me. Please, it's _Hermione_."

But his eyes were wild and unforgiving as he started bounding towards her. Hermione screamed and hastily ran away, aware of Severus's ear-splitting exclamation of her name.

The brunette sped through the forest, jumping over fallen logs and brambles. She shot a few well-aimed hexes just to distract Remus and buy her some time, but the werewolf continued in pursuit. Hermione felt like she was once again running for her life back in the Forest of Dean, Snatchers including Fenrir Greyback hot on her heels.

She urged herself incessantly to _keep going, keep going damn it_ , because if she stopped – if she even _rested_ for a second, then it would be the end of her.

Hermione suddenly lurched forward as she tripped over an unsuspected fallen tree trunk. She landed face first on the ground and tried to immediately stand up. But there was a painful lurch on her right ankle and under the full moon, she could see that her ankle was bent awkwardly and was quickly swelling.

Tears steadily poured from her eyes as she lifted her wand. Remus was drawing closer, his teeth already poised to snap her neck. Hermione furiously threw one hex after another, distracting the werewolf, but Remus was unfazed. Fear gripped her heart very tightly as she scrambled onto her feet once more, ignoring the blinding pain that almost made her pass out.

Remus was almost a meter from her now and Hermione desperately backed away. He lifted a sharp claw and tried to swipe her down, but then, a large white stag appeared and launched towards the werewolf. Remus emitted a loud whine as he and James tumbled on the ground.

"HERMIONE!"

A relieved sob escaped from her mouth when she saw Severus. His robes were tattered and there were twigs sticking out of his raven hair. Nonetheless, he looked well, despite the unadulterated fear in his eyes.

Sirius in his Animagus form abruptly bounded towards Hermione and barked incessantly at her feet. He started to run around, persistently looking behind him at Hermione and Severus.

"He wants us to follow him," Hermione urgently said, reaching out towards Severus to grasp his hand. She worriedly looked at where James was still trying to pin Remus down, but she knew he would be all right. Werewolves never really bothered with animals.

"Hermione, come on!" Sev said, pulling her arm to get her attention.

The brunette nodded her head and took a step forward. Blinding pain once again shot through her leg and she almost crumpled down.

"You're hurt," the Slytherin cried.

"I'm _fine_ ," she snapped. "Let's go. Let's bloody go!"

She bit her tongue to keep her pained cries inside as she urged Severus forward. Sirius was already bounding away, he looked over his shoulder once in a while just to check they were following closely behind. Remus's whines were growing softer and softer and by the time they emerged out of the Forbidden Forest, Severus almost collapsed on the ground in a mixture of exhaustion and relief.

"Not yet," Hermione said, hauling him back onto his feet. She jutted her chin at Sirius who was now impatiently running in circles. The brunette gave him a small nod of understanding and limped towards him, Severus in tow.

They were once again in front of the Whomping Willow, its branches dancing dangerously around. Hermione caught a small movement on the ground and saw the oversized rat scampering towards the huge knot on the tree's bark. Instantly, the Whomping Willow stomped moving.

Sirius slid inside the small tunnel and Hermione quickly followed inside. Her hand tightly held onto Severus as she led him through the narrow, dark tunnel.

They finally emerged once more onto the ground floor of the Shrieking Shack. Sirius climbed up the stairs and Hermione made a move to follow, but Severus held her in place.

"We should go back to Hogwarts," he exclaimed.

Hermione vigorously shook her head and tugged him upstairs. "We can't," she grounded out. "It's too dangerous. If Rem – if the _werewolf_ manages to escape from the forest, he might see us and follow us into the school. There are too many children inside, Sev. We can't let that happen."

"It will be dangerous if _he_ found his way back here," he snarled. "You're bloody hurt, Hermione. We can't fight him alone."

But Hermione continued to stay stubborn, even when errant tears escaped from her eyes. "No, we can't," she said, pulling him with her. "We can't, Sev."

Fury flared in his dark, black eyes, but he blessedly didn't stop Hermione anymore when she pulled him upstairs.

A surprised gasp tore away from Severus's mouth, when instead of the huge, black dog they had followed, Sirius Black greeted them. His face was as pale as the full moon and there was clear terror in his silver eyes. His breath hitched when he saw Hermione and he opened his mouth, trying to speak words that never formed.

"What the hell are you doing here, Black?" the Slytherin barked and lifted his wand, but Hermione quickly gripped his arm to appease him.

"It's all right, Sev," she gently whispered. "They're here to… to _protect_ us."

A hollow laugh escaped from Sirius's lips, his grey eyes glinting wildly under the dim light of the Shrieking Shack. His gaze never broke away from Hermione, but she grimly ignored him and collapsed on a squashy, mustard yellow chair tucked in the left corner of the room. Severus stiffly collapsed on the floor beside her and never looked away from Sirius, his wand still tightly gripped in his hand.

Hermione slowly looked around the room, noting a huge maroon bed bearing the Potter insignia occupying most of the room. There were a few strewn books around, some empty boxes of Chocolate Frogs and Bertie Botts, and bottles of half-empty butterbeer scattered around. This room looked definitely frequented and _homier_ compared to the dust-filled, moldy Shrieking Shack they had visited back in their third year.

"You're hurt."

The Ravenclaw blearily blinked and focused her gaze on Sirius. He was stiffly sitting on the edge of the bed this time. Half of his face was already obscured in shadow, but his grey eyes still glinted brightly. Hermione wasn't sure what expression he was wearing, but based on his rigid posture, she could already hazard a guess.

"Astute observation, Black," Severus snarled.

If it were possible, Sirius's posture grew more rigid. Hermione gently placed a hand on top of Sev's shoulder to calm him down.

"I'm all right," she whispered. "I don't think I broke my ankle. It's more of a sprain, actually. Some ice will reduce the swelling."

Sirius took a deep shuddering breath before standing up from the bed. Hermione watched him as he sauntered towards one of the cabinets and pulled out an unopened butterbeer bottle. " _Glacius_ ," he whispered, ice shooting from the tip of his wand and freezing the bottle completely.

"Here," he said, offering the frozen bottle towards her.

"Thank you," she quipped as she immediately placed the icy cold bottle against her swollen ankle. She flinched with the pain and cold before giving Sirius a small smile. Instead of his usual cheeky smile, Sirius merely nodded and sat back down on the edge of the bed.

Hermione didn't know how long they had stayed in the shack. Severus had already dozed off on the floor, his head leaning against Hermione's thigh. Sirius hadn't moved from his position and this time, resolutely refused to meet Hermione's roaming eyes.

She was already blinking back sleep when galloping hooves from downstairs suddenly resounded in the silent shack. Sirius was instantly on his feet and drew the door open.

A magnificent white stag then emerged inside the room. Remus, now in his human form, was slung over the stag's back, and although he looked worse for wear, he was mercifully alive and unhurt. Sirius quickly unburdened James from Remus's body and gently placed the exhausted werewolf on the bed.

"YOU!" Severus loudly snarled, charging towards Remus. Sirius and the stag instantly blocked Severus's way as Hermione lurched forward to keep him in place. A soft hiss escaped from her mouth when she placed some pressure on her ankle, and this distracted Severus for a bit as he turned back to Hermione to check if she was okay.

Sev's eyes widened, however, when James transformed back into his human form. Peter followed soon enough, and both of them looked like they had been through war. Peter was shaking, tears in his eyes, as he looked at his sister. James looked marginally better, but still exhausted, his hazel eyes hard and burning behind his glasses.

"Are you fucki—" Severus' face steadily turned purple as he pointed an accusatory finger in their direction. "Animagi? _Illegal_ Animagi? I can't fucking believe it! And you!" He harshly snapped at Remus, who shrank against the deep covers of the maroon bed. "A _werewolf_? In Hogwarts?"

He directed his crazed gaze at Hermione. "We have to go back and tell Dumbledore," he angrily cried. "We have to tell them that there's a _fucking_ werewolf and _illegal Animagi_ in this bloody school—"

"Sev…" she appeased. "That's not necessary."

"We have to _Obliviate_ them," Sirius gravely murmured, already raising his wand.

" _Are you fucking kidding me?"_ Severus thundered, brandishing out his wand once more.

"NO!" Hermione shrieked amidst the forming tension. She hobbled in between and spread out her arms. " _No_ , no one is going to forget what happened today." She pierced the Marauders with her blue eyes, meaning evident in her gaze. " _No one_."

James rubbed the bridge of his nose and scowled. Peter took a deep, shaky breath as more tears slipped down from his eyes. Sirius still resolutely held his wand high, and Severus… Severus looked like he was ready to murder someone.

"You have to keep this a secret, Sev," Hermione begged. When his eyes widened at her suggestion, she continued, " _Please_. You can't tell anyone about this."

"How can you even—"

"Severus—"

"YOU ALMOST DIED!" the Slytherin blew up. His outburst had increased the tension tenfold and Hermione watched as the others blanched at Severus's words. The magnitude of last night's events weighed heavily on their shoulders. Even Hermione realised how she had truly been in danger last night and the memory of her on the ground, helplessly under the mercy of an unforgiving werewolf… "Hermione, _you_ almost died. Or… or almost turned into one. I saw how— _he_ was so close— if he hadn't have been knocked off— it's— "

Severus deflated and allowed his angry mask to break, genuine terror – _for her_ – seeping through the cracks. A tear slipped down from Hermione's eyes as she reached forward and grabbed his hand and gave it a tight squeeze.

"Well, I didn't," she simply said. Severus expelled a shaky a breath and honestly looked like he was going to start crying too. "I'm all right, Sev. I'm– I'm not dead."

Hermione moved closer and drew him into a hug. Severus leaned heavily against her, all his ire now leaving his system as he tightly wound his arms around her, pulling her closer to comfort himself that she was very much alive.

"Please," she begged against his ear, "please don't tell anyone about this. Not about Remus being a werewolf. Not about the others being illegal Animagi." His arms tightened around her in protest. "They're not your secret to tell, Severus."

Although gentle, the tone of her voice spoke a finality even Severus couldn't deny. He sighed and squeezed her one last time before pulling away.

"Fine," he gruffly said. In the corner of her eyes, Hermione saw how the Gryffindor's marginally sagged down in relief. "I still don't fucking understand why you want to keep this a secret, but _fine_."

"Thank you, Sev," she said with a kind smile. "Go back to Hogwarts now."

"Let me accompany you back to your dormitories," he said, but Hermione was already shaking her head.

"There's still something I want to do," she insisted.

"But Hermione—"

"Please, Sev," she pleaded. "Trust me, I'm safe. My brother is here. Please, _please_ just go."

He looked highly displeased with her suggestion, but he finally gave her a curt nod. With one final glare at the Marauders, he stiffly turned on his heel and went down the stairs. Hermione listened until she was satisfied he was gone, before turning back to the Gryffindors with a resolute gaze.

She was immediately engulfed in a bone-crushing hug by Peter, who by then, had started to sob loudly against her shoulder. He was violently shaking against her embrace and Hermione allowed herself to shed a few more tears, burying her face in his rich, sandy-coloured hair.

"I-I'm fine, Petey," she stammered, rubbing comforting circles on his back. "I'm fine."

Hermione peeked over his broad shoulder and glanced at the other three. Remus looked pale and sickly, fresh bite marks and scratches on his body, and he was steadfastly refusing to meet Hermione's eyes.

"I'm not going to tell," she repeated, voice firm as she gently pulled her brother away from her. Peter took a mighty sniff and stepped aside, but his hand was still wrapped tightly around her arm, seemingly afraid that something bad would happen to her once more. "But… I have a condition."

Sirius flinched and tightened his grip on his wand.

"What condition?" James echoed, his voice sounding strangely strained.

"Teach me how to become an Animagus," she demanded.

All of their eyes widened simultaneously. Even Remus looked at her in surprise.

"Why?" James asked, knitting his eyebrows in confusion.

Hermione honestly didn't know why she wanted to become one. It was a _waste_ of time, something she firmly told herself in her past life that although it would be bloody convenient for escaping and concealing one's self, the process of becoming one was too time-consuming. She had other important matters to attend to, after all.

But after witnessing how the three Animagi were able to face a _bloody werewolf_ , who still had not discovered the wonders of the Wolfsbane Potion, Hermione felt like it was a handy skill. She had nothing else to do, and she had _hated_ feeling so hopeless back in the Forbidden Forest.

"You have to teach me," she grounded out. "Or I will tell."

"No, you won't," James deadpanned, his hazel eyes piercing straight into her very soul.

Of course she wouldn't, but she kept her gaze resolute.

James then expelled a soft sigh and silently glanced at Sirius. "I mean, if she really wants to…" the Black heir said, slightly shrugging his shoulders.

"It will be _dangerous_ , Hermione," her brother rasped out. The brunette glanced at him and frowned. "If the potion wasn't made properly, or the right environment wasn't chosen, you might get stuck as a half-transformed Animagus. There are even some instances when an Animagus is unable to transform back into a human."

Hermione wanted to point out that it wouldn't have been the most dangerous potion she had ever taken in her life but stopped herself. "I know that," she replied instead. "I studied it during third year after all. But, I still want to learn it, Peter. I'm going to be meticulous with the potion-making part. _You_ of all people know how mighty stubborn and detail-oriented I am. I will not botch this up."

Peter wrinkled his nose, clearly displeased, but he finally relented with a sigh.

The brunette looked back at the other Animagi and knew they silently agreed with her condition. Her eyes then strayed to Remus, who still hadn't said anything ever since they had returned.

"You should bring him to the infirmary," she blurted out. "He doesn't look well."

"He always doesn't look well after the full moon," James murmured under his breath.

Remus still refused to look at her. Hermione gently pulled away from Peter and limped towards the silent werewolf. James looked at her questioningly and was hesitant about whether to step aside or not, but one brief glance from Hermione made him move away.

The witch finally reached Remus, but he still refused to look at her. His shoulders had grown tenser with her close proximity and Hermione's heart lurched, knowing that his golden eyes held so much remorse that was uncalled for.

"It wasn't your fault," she whispered, tentatively reaching forward, waiting for him to react. But when Remus continued not to meet her eyes, Hermione gingerly deposited her fingers on top of his messy hair. "It wasn't your fault, Remus. So, don't blame yourself."

"Snape was right," he harshly bit, swivelling around with so much speed. "You almost— if it weren't for—" He paused and thickly swallowed. "I almost _hurt_ you, Hermione."

Suppressed tears were shining in his eyes, but Hermione didn't bother wiping away her own. "I don't blame you," she softly claimed. "You didn't mean it. _Any_ of it. You can't control yourself."

A few tears managed to escape from his eyes as she spoke. "I'm a monster, that's what I am," he hissed.

Hermione earnestly shook her head, her curls whipping across her cheek. " _No_ ," she vehemently cried. "Just because you have an affliction doesn't make you any less of a human." He made a move to protest but Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder. "I hope you believe that more than anyone else."

Remus swiftly looked away from her again, this time to hide his tumbling tears.

She then turned around and sternly glared at James and Sirius. "I hope this serves as a lesson for you lot," she sniped. James looked properly shamefaced and was unable to meet her gaze. Sirius, however, tightly clenched his jaw and resolutely matched her eyes. "Your stupid ego nearly cost not only _one_ life, but _two_."

Hermione won their staring contest. Sirius's cheeks flushed and he immediately looked away from her.

"I'm going back to my dormitory," she then announced with a tired sigh. "It's been an exhausting night."

"Let me take you to the infirmary instead," Peter insisted.

Hermione kindly smiled at her brother, eyes already red and puffy from crying too much. "Madame Pomfrey might ask too many questions," she said. "Besides, I only have a _sprain_. I have some medicine in my trunk that can help reduce the inflammation."

Peter stiffly nodded his head and clambered towards her. "Let me escort you back to your dormitory then," he offered.

The brunette didn't protest as she heavily leaned against her brother. Her ankle was aching and she felt _so_ tired. She was afraid she wouldn't be able to make it to the dormitory before everybody woke up to start their day.

Before they could go down the stairs, they were stopped when Sirius called her name. Hermione slowly turned around and looked questioningly at him. His eyes were steely once more, serious and earnest and so, _so_ guilty.

"Hermione, I—" He paused and scowled at the wooden boards. Apologising never came easily to Sirius Black, but Hermione appreciated that he was trying nonetheless.

"I know," she whispered in reply as she slowly pulled out her wand. "I'm sorry for this too."

With two mighty slashes of her wand, she sent two hurtling hexes towards James and Sirius. The two wizards were too surprised to dodge her spell, the yellow light hitting them squarely on their noses. Both wizards yelped as boogers shot out from their nostrils and formed into bats, incessantly flapping their green wings against their horrified faces.

"Come on," she murmured to her gaping brother, ignoring their pleas to stop the assault.

* * *

**June 14, 1976**

Blessedly, the fifth years had no classes today, so they could focus on studying for their remaining OWLs. Peter thought it was a blessing too because after everything that had happened two days ago, he was sure he wouldn't be able to focus on studying at all.

The fifth year Gryffindor sighed and buried himself deeper into the squashy armchairs his friends frequented in the Gryffindor Common Room. He long discovered that being best friends with Sirius Black and James Potter had magnificent perks. One was having a claim on the best couches in the cozy common room near the roaring fire. Although Peter was alone, the other Gryffindors didn't dare occupy the other couches where he was currently sitting.

Try as he might, Peter couldn't forget the events that had happened last full moon. The image of Hermione almost mauled by Remus in his werewolf form haunted him in his dreams. He had visited Hermione yesterday just to make sure she was all right. The swelling on her ankle had reduced and she had repeatedly assured him that she was _all right_. Peter still couldn't believe how easily she had bounced back to her usual self; she was _studying_ when he sought her out, for goodness' sake! If it were him, he would have been thoroughly distracted for days.

' _Like now,'_ he sneered to himself, embarrassed that he was wallowing instead of studying. _Unlike Hermione_. Sometimes, he really wondered if they were siblings. Hermione was different from him, loads better than anyone he could ever dream of. The only comfort and proof they were siblings was in their eyes. Otherwise, he would have thought she was from an entirely different universe than him.

But he really couldn't stop his worrying. After what he had done with his father, he swore that he would protect his mother and sister until his very last breath. He agreed to go to Hogwarts in the end because Dumbledore promised he'd be able to learn more spells that could protect them both. But so far, Peter had been doing a really piss poor job and he _hated_ himself for it. He felt like he had failed Hermione somehow and he knew that if she ever realised what he was thinking right now, she would loudly call him an idiot for even blaming himself for what had happened to her.

"Hey."

Peter blearily blinked his mind back into focus and was surprised to see that Remus was now sitting across from him. His werewolf best friend looked marginally better today, but he still looked sickly pale and there were dark half-moons under his eyes.

"Hey," he greeted back, slowly righting himself. "All right, Moony?"

The corner of his lips twitched. "Yeah," he whispered. Remus's eyes then fell on both of his clasped hands, scratches from his transformation still raw and healing.

Peter awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, waiting for Remus to break the silence. Ever since the full moon, the Marauders had been walking around each other on eggshells. The silence amongst them was unbearable – _suffocating_ even – and Peter just wished they would all go back to normal. Sirius and James most especially were different, like they'd grown a few years and were silently brooding over everything they had done in the past. It disconcerted Peter greatly, because his friends were always boisterous and happy. Not this… not like these weird sombre doppelgangers.

"Listen, Peter, I just want to—" Remus sounded strangely choked up and his golden eyes shone with unshed tears. Peter's eyes softened at what he was trying to do. "I'm sorry about what happened to Hermione."

Peter expelled a soft sigh, knowing that the werewolf was still blaming himself over the whole ordeal. He really, truly wanted to blame him because it was _him_ who almost mauled Hermione, but how could he when he knew who the true Remus was? He may have botched up the OWLs question about the signs of a werewolf, but he knew that a werewolf had no control over his actions.

"Remus, really, it wasn't your fault," he insisted. When Remus made a move to protest, Peter sighed once more and pulled out a bar of chocolate from his pocket. "You heard what Hermione said – you have no control over yourself. Only an idiot would continue blaming you." He then offered the chocolate, but Remus merely stared at it.

"Come on, take it," he said. "I went to see Hermione yesterday and she insisted I should give this to you. Said chocolates help a lot after the full moon."

A small tear slipped down unknowingly from Remus's eyes as he clutched the bar of chocolate in his hands. He held it like it was _sacred_ , and Peter wanted to laugh because it was just bloody chocolate.

"It's not your fault," Peter repeated.

"He's right. It's not. It's _mine_."

Both of their eyes snapped towards Sirius, who was sombrely looking at the duo. His hands were buried deep in his pockets and there was uncertainty in his eyes. He then slowly walked forward and stiffly sat down on the other end of the couch and glared darkly at the rich, carpeted floor.

"I'm sorry, Peter, truly I am," he gruffly said. Sirius made a sour look on his face, all of them knowing he always had a difficulty in apologising. "Your sister was right; it was my stupid _ego_ that got us in this mess."

"If we're taking about stupid egos, it's _mine_ that got us in this mess." James suddenly appeared and grabbed onto the back of the couch.

Peter couldn't help it; he actually laughed. The other three looked at him as if he'd gone barmy. "Were you all just lurking about, waiting for the right moment to butt in?" he accused.

A sheepish smile appeared on James and Sirius's faces. Peter felt greatly relieved that the tension that had been unwittingly building up among them was starting to dissipate.

"Petey—"

"It's _fine_ ," he grounded out. "Hermione's fine. Bloody hell, even Snape is _fine_. So, we're all good. I cannot say that no harm was done, because that's not true, but I'm just really glad everybody's still _bloody fucking_ alive."

The smiles on their faces were humongous and Peter was relieved they were back to normal. The four Marauders gazed at the crackling fire, lost in thought, and Peter suddenly wanted to say something he wished his friends would listen to. Hermione had once told him he should stand up to his friends, especially if they were doing something _ridiculous_ , and Peter had brushed that off before. He was already satisfied with following them around, doing their bidding, because what else was he supposed to do? He didn't have Sirius's charisma, or James's wicked skills, nor Remus's intelligence. He was just plain, ol' Peter Pettigrew, so he really shouldn't complain if things didn't suit him.

But… but after everything that had happened, Peter knew he should finally put his foot down. He had feared before that Hermione might get caught between the rivalry of his best friends and the Slytherin, and now that it had really happened, Peter couldn't stand aside and say nothing any longer.

Thus, swallowing his trepidation, he straightened on his seat and murmured, "Don't you think we've gone overboard this time?" His cheeks inflamed when three sets of eyes instantly latched onto him. "I – I mean, don't get me wrong, I still _hate_ Snivellus Snape. It's just– he's Hermione's best friend, and I don't think she'll ever listen to me if I tell her yet again to stay away from him." He nervously glanced at his silent friends and swallowed once more. "Hermione was _hurt_ because of us. We can't blame Snape either because he didn't do anything wrong. Snape almost _died_ protecting my sister while I was a berk, standing aside and doing nothing. And – and I don't want that to happen again." He tightly closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I don't want to reach a point where I have to choose between my sister and my friends because… _because_ I already know my choice. I know what it would be in a heartbeat."

Silence met his claim and Peter slowly opened his eyes, trying to gauge their reactions. It surprised him how they were all gaping at him, like they had never seen him before. He felt heat climbing up from his neck up to his cheeks, before James broke into a small, tentative smile.

"You are right, Petey," he concurred with a small nod. "I think we've really gone overboard this time."

"We have to stop doing ridiculous things," Remus sighed, tiredly running a hand through his hair. He threw a scathing glare at the Purebloods. " _You_ have to stop doing ridiculous things. We're fifteen, for Merlin's sake. We're not a bunch of children anymore."

Sirius made a face and threw a throw pillow at Remus. " _Technically_ , we're still children, Moony," he pointed out. "In Wizarding standards, you're considered as an adult once you reach—" The rest of his words were muffled when Remus threw the pillow right back at him, squarely hitting him on his face.

"I mean it," Remus grumbled with a firm glare. "I should really _punch_ you, Sirius, because it's your whole bloody fault Hermione and Snape were in the Shrieking Shack in the first place. But I think you've been scarred by Hermione's Bat-Bogey anyway."

The Black heir's smile faltered. "The Bat-Bogey wasn't enough," he quietly replied, genuine remorse on his face.

"No, it wasn't," Remus said.

Sirius made a huge show of swiping his hair away from his face. "Come on then, Remus," he bravely said. "Give me your best shot. Just… just _not_ the nose. It's still a tad sensitive from Hermione's spell."

Remus snorted. "I'm not going to punch you, wanker," he replied. "I don't see the point of it."

He then expelled a huge sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "But Wormy's really right. We've gone overboard. I know we had our fun. I mean _Merlin_ we have a bloody reputation in this school. I know I'm partly to blame too, not intervening soon enough even though I knew what we're doing isn't right. But… but I really don't want this friendship to be ruined by our stupid egos and childish rivalries." His pressed his lips tightly and gave them a sad glance. "This friendship is all I have."

Peter felt his eyes prickling with tears but he tried to hold them back in, knowing the others would incessantly tease him for being such a crybaby. But his blue eyes widened, noticing the sheen in the others' eyes.

"Oh, Moony-pie!" Sirius lamented, throwing his arms around Remus's shoulders. The werewolf scowled and pushed him away, but Sirius latched tighter. James, not wanting to miss out from the fun, also threw his arms around Remus. The two Purebloods had a mini competition on who could hug Remus the tightest, and the said wizard was growling and shoving them away. Peter, however, noted the twitching of Remus's lips.

A small smile grew on Peter's face. While his other friends playfully bickered, he found himself leaning back and contentedly watching them.

At least, they were back to normal.

* * *

**June 29, 1976**

The last Feast of the school-year had started without much of a hitch. Most of the students were livelier now that summer was approaching and even Hermione felt excited to go home. Her own OWLs would be next school-year and she knew she had to relax and rest for the next two months before the battle. She missed her mother, too, and promised herself she would spend more time with Anya once she was home.

"What are you going to do during summer, Sev?" she asked, glancing at her silent best friend.

The Slytherin nonchalantly shrugged and continued to stare at his pumpkin soup. Hermione sighed and looked at her other best friend sitting at the Gryffindor table. Lily still wasn't talking to Severus and the Slytherin had become crankier as the days passed by.

Hermione knew their bond had strengthened ever since the werewolf incident, but _still_ , it wasn't the same without Lily. She missed the fiery redhead too and wished they could patch things up and spend time together once more.

Her thoughts were disturbed when a sudden commotion over at the Gryffindor table arose. Her eyes widened when she saw James confidently climbing on the dining table, oblivious to the food he'd stepped on or kicked away. He meandered through the throngs of scrumptious meals until he was standing right in front of Lily.

He pointed his wand against his throat and murmured a soft _'Sonorus'_. "Lily Evans," his voice boomed, echoing throughout the suddenly silent Great Hall. "I would like to take this opportunity to show you how much you mean to me."

Lily was steadily becoming a brilliant shade of red, but her glaring daggers were left unnoticed by the giddy Gryffindor. James then proceeded to summon his guitar, which instantly hurtled into his awaiting hands.

Hermione couldn't help but to snort when she heard the unmistakable intro to 'I Want to Hold Your Hand'. James was singing at the top of his voice, and although it was _atrocious_ , his strumming was flawless. Lily's eyes had widened, obviously surprised with his newly acquired skill and his choice of song. James even made ridiculous dance movements to embellish his show and people were _loving_ it.

As he finished the song, everyone in the Great Hall broke into raucous applause. Even Dumbledore looked highly amused as he clapped his hands too.

Lily, whose face was now bright red like a tomato, immediately stood up from the bench and stalked away.

"Evans, hey!" James cried, voice still magically increased in volume. "Lils! Come on, where's my snog?"

"Mister Potter!" a scandalised Professor McGonagall exclaimed. "Get down from there this instant!"

A boisterously laughing Sirius pulled the disappointed James down from the table. Their Head of House had finally reached them and was properly reprimanding James. His face was already turning red from embarrassment and a sheepish grin bloomed on his face.

Even after Professor McGonagall had stalked away, James's friends were still laughing at his expense. James scowled and shoved their shoulders, muttering something under his breath. And while the other Gryffindors continued to excitedly talk about his spectacular show, James's hazel eyes landed on the Ravenclaw table, seemingly searching for someone.

Hermione's breathing turned erratic, _hating_ herself for hoping it would be _her_ he was searching for. She didn't understand why her heart thudded loudly inside her chest, knowing that obviously it would be her he was searching for. He never really had any friends from the Ravenclaw House except her, right?

Which was why it mightily confused her when her breath hitched once his eyes found hers. James broke into a humongous smile and despite his flaming cheeks, he proudly gestured at his guitar, silently conveying that he had strummed it perfectly.

In spite of the confusion, Hermione found herself smiling hesitantly in return. She wasn't entirely sure, but the redness on his cheeks intensified, and before she could properly decipher what the bloody hell had just happened, James's attention was caught by Sirius and Peter again.

"What's wrong with you?" Sev suddenly asked. He was frowning at her cheeks, which she knew were undoubtedly red, too.

"Nothing," she said, a tad too quickly, a tad _too_ hopeful that it surely, _surely_ was nothing.

* * *

**June 30, 1976**

"I'm going to hex you both if you leave this compartment."

Lily's emerald eyes were blazing with fury and although it made her falter a bit, Hermione squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. Severus looked more exhausted than mad, and had merely tucked himself into the far corner of the compartment, relentlessly gazing at the scenery outside.

"Hermi—" But Lily's words died down when Hermione immediately shut the compartment door in front of her. She muttered a soft Locking Charm, in case Lily didn't listen and blasted the door open. She also charmed a few more advanced spells just to be safe.

Hermione then steadfastly stood guard in front of the compartment door and hoped against hope that Severus would stop being such an arse and just bloody _apologise_. Now that they were travelling back to King's Cross for summer, Hermione knew this was her last chance to amend their broken friendship. She had an inkling it would be mighty difficult for Severus to apologise if he did it _after_ summer.

So yes, if they were going to mend their friendship, it should be _now_ , and Hermione would be damned if that never happened at all.

"Pettigrew!"

She unwittingly flinched, recognising James Potter's voice, and mentally smacked herself to calm down. Ever since his bloody debacle yesterday, Hermione had been disoriented every time he was in the vicinity. She tried to convince herself it was merely stress from the previous werewolf attack and the fight between her best friends, _but_ even her inner voice was doubtful of her excuses.

Which was why she promised herself not to think too much about it. She had the whole of summer to spend time with her mother, catch up with her non-academic related reading, and even figure out a new hobby.

"Have you seen Lily?" James asked once he was standing in front of her.

Wordlessly, she tilted her head towards the compartment door. James's eyes lit up eagerly and made a move to grab for the door, but Hermione clutched it tightly in her hands.

"Don't," she snapped.

He looked at her in surprise and leaned closer to peer through the small window. Hermione's nose was instantly filled with dizzying scents – freshly mowed grass, summer and treacle tarts – and had to hold her breath until James pulled away and took a few steps back.

The look on his face was thunderous. "I can't believe—"

Hermione cut him off with a sigh. "Just leave them be, Potter," she said with a frown.

" _Hermione_ ," he grounded out, "he called her that… that _stupid_ word."

"I know, and he's sorry for it," she casually said. "This is between Lily and Sev. You can't stop Lily if she decides to forgive him."

"If I were her, I'd _never_ forgive him."

She lightly grinned, ignoring how he glared down at her. "Well, it's a good thing Lily's not you now, isn't it?" she pointed out. "I don't think Hogwarts could take it if there were two students walking around with egos the size of the sun."

His eyes slightly widened at her joke. Still frowning, he added, "I'd _never_ call Lily that despicable name. Or anyone, for that matter."

"I know," she said with a small nod. "You're too much of a Gryffindor for that crap." Hermione briefly looked over her shoulder and grimaced. "It was stupid and hurtful and I'd really, truly understand Lily if she didn't forgive him. But… you know, teenagers say and do the stupidest things when under duress. For example, _humiliated_ and _bullied_ in front of the whole school."

Hermione smirked when she got her intended reaction. James's cheeks instantly flared up and his hazel eyes couldn't meet hers.

"Your attitude that day wasn't exactly stellar either, Potter," she deliberately reprimanded. "Lily wasn't kidding when she said you were as bad as Sev that day."

He made a face, clearly not pleased with her comparison. "I should apologise too, right?" he sourly murmured.

"Yes," she nodded. "And not only to Lily."

Hazel met blue. "I'm sorry," he told her in a heartbeat.

Hermione snorted. "Not to _me_ , you dolt," she insisted. " _Severus_."

"Oh." His lips curled once more in disdain. "Well— I'm not— maybe that's not—"

She sighed, completely understanding his hesitation. "Maybe not outright say it if it displeases you," she pointed out. "But you know, just _back off_ next school year, especially if Severus is minding his own business and ignoring you lot."

"Hey, after that _day_ , we didn't go out of our way to torment him now, did we?" When Hermione merely frowned, James sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I'll try," he murmured, his face pinched.

"Not good enough, Potter" she glowered. "You have to _do_."

James nervously shuffled his feet and ran a hand through his hair. "We've talked about it," he slowly continued. "We were rightful berks and you almost—" Genuine remorse was painted on his face. "Snape too. And as much as I dislike that smarmy, annoying bas—" He paused when Hermione quirked an unamused eyebrow. "What I'm trying to say is, we went overboard this time. I don't like Snape and that's a fact, but I don't want him _dead_ , especially if I'm the one who caused it. It's…" He was struggling for words and Hermione patiently waited, knowing that this event had not only shaken her and Sev, but also the Marauders. "I know sorry won't suffice because what we did was unacceptable. I _know_ even your terrifying Bat-Bogey Hex wasn't enough to punish us. What we did wasn't a mere prank." He pinned her with his gaze. "So yes, we will. We will stop pestering Snape, even if I don't like his face."

In spite of how flummoxed she had become because of his earnest words, Hermione wryly smiled. "Insulting him should be at a minimum too," she pointed out.

He grimaced. "Fine," he grumbled. He glanced at her once more, deep in thought. Hermione wasn't sure what he was thinking but she sure as hell knew his gaze made her a tad uncomfortable. "Are you okay?" he softly asked. "After the full moon…"

Her eyes widened at his concern. "I've never been better, Potter," she said.

He ducked his head and peered at her closely. "Yeah?" he tentatively asked.

"Honest," she breathlessly replied.

James broke into that stupid, _stupid_ lopsided grin of his and ran a hand through his hair once more. "All right," he said. He then rummaged inside his robe pocket and pulled out a leaf. "I also meant to give you this."

Hermione snatched the leaf from his hand and examined it under the dim light of the train. "Oh," she gasped, recognising the leaf. "A mandrake leaf?"

"Well, you said you wanted our help to become a… a _you-know-what_ ," he said with a grin. "So, for starters, put that inside your mouth for a full month. Remember, you can't take it out, swallow it, or spit it out. You have to start over otherwise."

"I know that," she replied with a frown.

"Pettigrew," he claimed exasperatedly, "you don't understand. It will be _bloody_ difficult. We repeated this step – the first step, mind you – countless times because one of us accidentally ingested it or spat it out in our sleep."

The brunette rolled her eyes. She then turned the leaf over and pointed at the underside. "It will be easier if this side sticks under your tongue. It has really tiny thorns that can latch onto the grooves on your tongue. It's not terribly hard if you had researched it further."

His eyes almost popped out from their sockets. "Blimey," he gasped, "we should have asked for _your_ help when we first thought of becoming a you-know-what. Maybe it wouldn't have taken us _years_ to perfect it."

Hermione shrugged and slipped the leaf inside her pocket. "It's still time consuming, though," she said with a sigh. "I still have to wait for the next full moon to put the leaf inside my mouth."

"That's on the eleventh of July," James reminded.

"All right," she replied. "In the meantime, I'd try to find some suitable dew for the potion."

James grimaced. " _Merlin_ , I can't believe we actually managed to do it in the end," he pointed out.

"It might not be too hard since it's summer," she continued. "Maybe I'll even become one before the next school-year starts!"

"I wouldn't be surprised if you actually did," he answered, lowly chuckling under his breath. "Anyway, I have to go back. Have a good summer, Pettigrew, yeah?"

"You too, Potter," she replied with a brilliant smile.

James smiled at her once more before turning on his heels. She watched him as he casually pulled out the Golden Snitch from his pocket and started tossing it in the air, deftly catching it even before it zoomed away from him.

"Show-off," she murmured, smiling at his back until he had disappeared into a compartment.

Hermione's gaze then slowly snapped back towards the small compartment window, where she peered inside. Hermione smile grew larger when she saw the scene. Severus was on his knees beside Lily, tightly clutching one of her hands. She couldn't hear what he was saying, but judging from the pinched look on his face, he was most definitely reciting a litany of apologies. What relieved Hermione, though, was Lily's face – the redhead had her left hand tangled in his hair, a soft, fond smile on her face.

The brunette expelled a deep sigh of relief and turned around, knowing it would be best if she left her two best friends to catch up once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this was a monstrous chapter. So far, this is the longest one in this whole story. I was set on ending the school-year in this chapter but I had so many ideas so I just crammed them all in hahaha.
> 
> I really should be studying right now but I'm so sleepy and I'm suffering from acid reflux (damn coffees, amirite?). But like I said, I was excited about this chapter and decided to post it today.
> 
> Thank you so much for all the love and support. I think I'm driving you all mad because of how ridiculous the Marauders were becoming. I'm already starting to get a wee scared you're going to hate them in the end hahaha. But I was so interested with their character development, especially when their behaviour during their Hogwarts years was legit canon. I've always really wondered how they became these glorified heroes in the future.
> 
> That's it for now! Next chapter will be set on summer because Hermione's so tired of all the school drama. Our heroine deserves some rest too. Things will be very, very interesting from now on :)


	13. chapter twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So hi, good news! I think I can afford frequent updates for the next few weeks (maybe two-three weeks) but I'm not going to set a legit schedule because surely I won't even adhere to it ahahaha. But holy moly the number of reviews I've been getting! Why are you still reading this? Why aren't y'all disappointed yet? Ahahahahah but really thank you!
> 
> Special thanks to my lovely Beta, lozipozivanillabean! She never runs out of kind words to assure me I've been doing well (SO FAR lmao).
> 
> As promised, this will be set during Hermione's summer. Enjoy!

* * *

**xii.**

_**the sunlight shines a little brighter** _

(Daughter by Sleeping at Last)

* * *

**August 8, 1976**

"Hermione, come on!" Peter's annoyed voice called outside her bedroom.

"I'm coming, blimey!" she exclaimed in return. Hermione finally gave her wand a mighty swish and all her things – books, clothes, parchments, and quills – flew into her small satchel and arranged themselves neatly. Satisfied with her handiwork, Hermione grabbed onto her bag and slung the strap across her shoulders.

When she walked out of her bedroom, Peter was already impatiently bouncing on his heels.

"Girls take a bloody long time to get ready," he whined, then turned on his heel and eagerly went to their fireplace.

Hermione rolled her eyes at his back and slowly pattered behind her brother. Peter was already half-way in getting a pinch of Floo powder from the small pouch beside their fireplace, when she arrived in their living room. Anya surprised her children when she announced she had decided to connect their fireplace to the Floo Network. "It makes travelling terribly easy," their mother had explained. Ever since they had started going to Hogwarts, their mother ventured frequently into the Wizarding World. Peter and Hermione were happy that Anya was starting to enjoy all wizarding things once more.

"I don't even know why I have to come," she glumly pointed out.

"No one's stopping you from ditching, 'Mione. We can always tell Mum you felt sick or something."

She glanced at him like he was barmy. "And face our mother's ire?" she asked. Peter snorted and threw the magical powder into the unlit fireplace. Emerald fire blazed upward and Peter quickly stood inside. "Potter Manor!" he exclaimed. He was gone in an instant and Hermione sighed, wondering why he was so bloody excited to see his friends when they see each other every day back in Hogwarts.

Hermione hesitated, wondering if tagging along was a good idea. She was already perfectly contented to stay at home with her mother for the whole summer, but when Anya had found out that Peter would be spending a week at the Potter Manor, she suggested for Hermione to go along as well. Anya knew Hermione had grown considerably close to the Marauders after tutoring them during their OWLs year, and reckoned her daughter should spend a few days out of their house. Besides, she was an acquaintance of Euphemia Potter and knew Hermione would be properly taken care of.

Staying behind was tempting, but Hermione was admittedly curious how Potter Manor looked. She'd always wondered why James Potter lived in a humble house in Godric's Hollow with his family, when he was a rich Pureblood heir. A Manor made sense, and she wanted to see if Peter's shoddy description of the Manor was as he'd portrayed. Her stay at the Manor would also coincide with the last day of keeping the Mandrake leaf inside her mouth. At least with the Marauders gathered in one house, they'd be able to help her complete her Animagus transformation.

Hermione expelled a deep sigh, knowing full well her curiosity had already won. She grabbed a pinch of Floo powder, threw it into the fireplace, and stepped inside. "Potter Manor!" she exclaimed. The familiar disorienting travel via the Floo Network flashed before her eyes. Hermione tightly clamped her mouth and barely breathed to stop herself from inhaling a lungful of soot.

The journey had ended in an instant. Hermione's eyes adjusted at the sudden onslaught of bright lights and she wobbly stumbled out of the fireplace to behold a brightly lit foyer. Her eyes widened as she spied two stylish maroon couches near the brick wall fireplace. The floor was covered with thick carpets with intricate designs, of which Hermione vowed to observe later, because she _swore_ they were twinkling. The whole room was spacious, almost rivalling the Ravenclaw Common Room, only this time, the foyer was decorated with maroon and gold. The occupants were _definitely_ Gryffindors.

Hermione spied some various statues and armour, all speaking of a different place and a different time, and despite the clashing cultures of the diverse statues, they all blended together elegantly. There was also a handsome grandfather clock standing beside the maroon divans, the golden pendulum looking polished and very new. Near the grand, marble staircase hung a painting of a lovely town, with a huge, formidable Manor standing proudly at the epicentre.

"You're gaping," Peter pointed out with a snicker.

The brunette's jaw instantly shut close and she blushed. "It's… _huge_ ," she lamely replied, clearly still at a loss of what to say.

"The Potters are old money," Peter said with a casual shrug. "What did you expect?"

"I didn't realise—" She swallowed down her words, her heart clenching unexpectedly at the thought of her raven-haired, emerald-eyed best friend.

Harry Potter could have lived in this huge Manor, with a lovely foyer, and most likely other beautiful rooms she had yet to explore. But of course, _of course_ , Voldemort just had to ruin his whole life.

Hasty footsteps from the marble staircase caught their attention and they watched as three excited boys bounded down.

"I knew I heard your stupid voice, Wormta— _oh_."

James abruptly skidded into a halt. Sirius almost crashed against his back, and would have, if Remus hadn't latched onto his wrist to keep him from lurching forward. All their eyes were now on Hermione and the brunette unwittingly blushed.

"Err, I'm sorry I should have Owled beforehand," Peter said with a sheepish smile. "But Mum suddenly told us she'd be spending a few days with her new boyfriend's family and insisted I bring Hermione along. I hope you don't mind?"

The Potter heir awkwardly rubbed the nape of his neck. "I guess," he said, followed by a half-hearted shrug. "I'm sure Mum and Dad won't mind either."

"I won't be a bother," Hermione promised, prompting Sirius to snort loudly.

"I highly doubt that, kitten," he cheekily pointed out. She threw him a light glare, but Sirius merely grinned in return. He then stepped forward and gave a flourished bow. "Welcome to Potter Manor, Monsieur and Mademoiselle. I'm Sirius Potter and I will be your tour guide for today."

" _What_?" Peter sputtered out, a bubble of laughter escaping from his lips.

James shoved Sirius away and laughed. "Wanker," he said. He grinned at the stunned expression on the siblings' faces. "You see, Sirius ran away from home—"

"—best damn thing I've ever done in my whole damn life—"

"— _and_ , he's currently crashing with us," James continued. "Basically, we kind of adopted him, but if you want to be _technical_ , he couldn't really be a Potter."

"Some bureaucratic shite," Sirius flippantly said, waving his hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter if I get stuck with this vile last name all my life, just as long as I escaped those fools."

Remus pursed his lips very tightly. "They're still your family," he reminded.

Sirius's eyes dangerously flashed. "They're no family of mine," he harshly shot back. He threw an arm over James's shoulders and pulled him possessively towards himself. " _This_ is my family."

"All right, all right, _Merlin_ ," James said with a tired sigh. Judging from their expressions, Hermione hazarded this wasn't the first time they'd fought about this. "Anyway, we've got some tea in the Drawing Room. Fancy some?"

Hermione politely nodded her head while Peter quipped a small 'yes'.

"Brilliant," he said with a toothy grin. "Pokey!"

A small house-elf, perhaps even younger than Dobby, appeared beside James. She was wearing a ridiculous ensemble of a pink dress with a black bowtie and cute yellow kitten heels with silk, ribbon-like straps that wound up to her thighs. To complete her outfit, she was sporting a small black hat on top of her wispy hair, held in place by a gaudy, silver hairpin.

"Lovely outfit, Pokey, _truly_ you astound me every day," James greeted with a soft laugh. His hazel eyes sparkled with amusement, and his house-elf took it as a compliment.

"Pokey thanks the Young Master," she said with a delicate, low bow, the tips of her ears almost touching the carpeted floor.

Sirius was snickering behind him. "Blimey, I would love to have a house-elf like her," he pointed out. "Kreacher was… _grouchy_."

"Young Master James requires Pokey's assistance?" the house-elf asked.

"Yes," the bespectacled boy said. He gestured at their two, new guests and smiled. "Please bring their things to the guest rooms. I'm sorry, we have an additional guest today, so I hope it isn't too much of a bother if you fixed another guest room."

Pokey's eyes landed on Hermione. A soft gasp escaped from her mouth as both of her hands landed on her heart. "Could it be?" she wailed, big, fat tears starting to form in her eyes. She looked at her bemused master once more and added, "The future Mistress of the House?"

" _What_?!" Hermione shrieked as Peter paled and James blushed a brilliant shade of red. Sirius was the only one who found the whole thing hilarious.

"What? NO!" the Potter heir bellowed, suddenly unable to meet Hermione's eyes. "A _friend_ , Pokey. Blimey, why are you always like this?"

"Oh," the house-elf said. It was comical how all her tears had instantly stopped and a look of mild amusement appeared on her face. "Pokey is sorry for the confusion, Young Master. Pokey promises it will never happen again."

James emitted a large snort. "Knowing you, I highly doubt that," he pointed out. Pokey grew sheepish, the ends of her ears drooping a tad bit. "So, anyway, tea is ready, I hope."

"Of course, Young Master James!" Pokey cried, as if scandalised that he even thought of doubting her. "Tea is always ready for young master and his friends."

"All right, thank you," he said with a laugh. "You may go now, Pokey."

She bowed low for her goodbye and snapped her fingers. She disappeared with a crack, together with Peter and Hermione's things. James then ran a hand through his hair and beckoned them to follow him.

While the boys settled into an easy conversation about summer and the impending release of their OWL scores, Hermione took that opportunity to further survey the Potter Manor. She had concluded during the journey that the foyer was perhaps one of the largest rooms in the house. The corridors were lined by various portraits of previous Potters, and it amused Hermione greatly, how their impossible hair seemed to stem from the middle ages. She was able to take a peek at various rooms, the same gold and maroon ensemble arranged inside.

James suddenly stopped in front of an imposing oak door with the proud Potter seal emblazoned on it. To her surprise, he threw her a wicked smirk. "This is our library," he told her. "It's not as huge as the Black's. _Definitely_ smaller than the Hogwarts library. But my ancestors were notorious readers, some even wrote various novels to pass the time. Dad used to tell me that, before they built the other rooms, they made sure the library was finished first."

He pushed the door open and lifted his arm so Hermione could duck underneath and take a peek. She bloody well knew she was gaping once more, because _holy Mother of Merlin_ , the shelves were endless, with books even reaching up to the highest point of the ceiling. James wasn't lying when he said it wasn't as huge as the one in Grimmauld Place or Hogwarts, but this was still something.

"You shouldn't have shown her the library," Peter teased, gently pulling Hermione away to stop her gawking. "She'll start drooling."

"Shut up, berk," she hissed with a blush as she lightly swatted his arm.

"Her face looked like Christmas had come early," Sirius pointed out, boisterously laughing.

"You can do all your summer homework here, Pettigrew," James teased. "I'm sure you're itching to start doing it soon."

She glowered at their teasing, and wondered how she would survive the next few days staying with these annoying boys. Harry and Ron were already difficult to handle together, especially when they were in one of their moods. Handling _four_ , well blimey, Hermione felt like she had just aged a hundred more years.

**-ooo-**

The Drawing Room wasn't as huge as the foyer, but still spacious enough to display various antiques decorated against the pale-pink wallpaper of the room. They were currently lounging on chairs that were suspiciously as squashy as the overstuffed couches in the Gryffindor Common Room. Even the arrangement of the chairs was reminiscent of the beloved house, and Hermione had this inkling that Potters usually got Sorted into Gryffindor.

While Sirius recounted how he'd had his last, fantastic row with his family and had run away – surely, he was embellishing a lot of the details – an old couple strode inside to greet the other boys. James was instantly on his feet and bounded towards them, grinning widely as he encircled his arms around their waist.

"You're back early," he said.

"Your father hates the Ministry," the witch – James's mother – reminded with a teasing glare. "Of course he'd want to finish everything up so that he could get out immediately."

"That place is a _mess_ ," the wizard – James's father – complained. "I never want to step foot in there again."

"I take it they weren't pleased when you turned down their offer for a position in the Wizengamot," their son guessed with a glint in his hazel eyes. " _Again_."

His father expelled a loud snort. "I don't even know why they keep on trying _every year_ , when I made it a point I could never associate with those stuffy bast" – his wife gave him a scathing glare – " _gentlemen_. Imagine trying to strike up a conversation with Abraxas Malfoy. _Or_ , Merlin forbid, Orion Black." He threw a quick apologetic smile at the only Black in the room. "No offense, Sirius."

"S'alright, Fleamont," Sirius grinned. "In fact, I fully agree."

The older wizard broke into merry laughter that was so infectious Hermione couldn't help but smile herself. He looked _exactly_ like James, with the raven hair and chiselled nose. His hair was tamer than the teenager, though, stylishly slicked back like how Regulus wore his hair most of the time. He wore a rich, maroon robe and was leaning against an ornate walking stick with a golden head of a lion on top. He screamed Pureblood aristocracy that could even put Lucius Malfoy to shame, but despite this, there were crinkles in the corner of his eyes, a silly multi-coloured necktie that didn't seem to match his outfit all together, and a relaxed posture no Sacred Twenty-Eight would be caught dead to be sporting when in company of others.

"Oh, your other guests have arrived," the older witch pointed out, bringing Hermione's attention to her.

James definitely got his eyes _and_ atrocious eyesight from his mother. Her hazel eyes shone behind stylishly thin-framed glasses as she observed them. She was wearing elegant midnight blue robes that slightly shimmered when hit by light. Her hair was light brown, twisted into a pretty bun on top of her head. Although there were already wrinkles on her face, it was undeniable that she had been beautiful in her youth.

Hermione watched as she smiled kindly at Peter, having recognised him, but once her eyes stopped on Hermione, they widened in surprise. "I didn't know we'd have another visitor," she said. Her husband's brown eyes also settled on her and mirrored the surprise of the witch standing beside him.

"Oh, right," James said with a sheepish smile. "She's Peter's sister and I didn't know that she'd be staying with us until today either."

"Um," the brunette unconsciously started, immediately sliding off the couch to stand on her feet. "Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Potter. My name is Hermione Pettigrew."

The older wizard quirked an eyebrow, unabashedly amused by her greeting. "Are you sure she is a friend of yours, James?" he asked. "She is _terribly_ polite."

"The politest of us all," Sirius seriously replied while Remus reverently nodded his head. Her brother was fighting a smile but was failing miserably.

Her cheeks flared up when James boisterously laughed. "Most of the time, _yes_ , but she has a mean temper," he pointed out with a meaningful glance at his parents.

A sly glint appeared in Mr. Potter's eyes. "Bat-Bogey Hex?" he asked, delighted.

"Bat-Bogey Hex?" Mrs. Potter echoed, amused.

"Bat-Bogey Hex," James confirmed with his lopsided grin.

"That was in second year!" she blurted out before she could stop herself. When both James and Sirius gave her a pointed glance, her blush intensified. "Well, there was an incident two months ago too, and I know it wasn't my proudest moment, but with all due respect, your son was being a bully to one of my best friends. My temper may have gotten the better of me."

She was aware how the other three boys were trying to stop their sniggering. She bit her tongue to stop herself from cursing them all – something she knew would further solidify their primary impression of her as having a _mean_ temper – but then, to her utmost surprise, the Potter patriarch was already excitedly crossing the Drawing Room to meet her.

"It is not every day someone can put my impossible son in his place," he said with a laugh. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Pettigrew. I'm Fleamont Potter." He thrust his hand and politely waited for her to grasp it.

"Hermione's fine, Mr. Potter," she said with a kind smile as she grasped his proffered hand and gave it a slight shake.

"Fleamont's fine, too," he said with a deep rumble. "It still makes me uncomfortable being addressed as such because 'Mr. Potter' will always be my father."

His wife elegantly walked beside him and gave Hermione a pretty smile. "Euphemia Potter," she greeted.

"She's also the tutor we've been yammering about," Sirius piped in, trudging forward to place Euphemia's hand on the crook of his arm. "You know, the one who made the ridiculous colour-coded schedules that practically saved our lives."

Sirius directed the old witch to comfortably sit on one of the arm chairs. Mrs. Potter smiled at him appreciatively.

"I've been getting more _Exceeds Expectations_ in my essays over the last school-year," James added, plopping down on the couch beside Remus.

"Although I've tried really hard to make these blokes study more since first year," Remus continued, "Hermione managed to do it in just a _year_."

"You always let us get away with things, Moony," Peter pointed out. "Hermione rules with an iron fist."

"That's not true!" the brunette sputtered out. Fleamont and James were boisterously laughing, their facial expressions ridiculously identical, and Hermione tried her very hardest not to laugh because they were teasing _her,_ but they were all so light-hearted and carefree and she really couldn't stay annoyed now, could she.

"So, I will be right in guessing that _you_ are the one who introduced the guitar to my son too," Euphemia continued amidst their laughs.

Hermione merely smiled and nodded her head. She finally slid on the couch beside her brother.

"Ah, so you're the reason why he's strumming that blasted thing until the wee hours of the morning," James's father said with a melodramatic sigh.

"Hey, I don't hear any complaints!" James pointed out with a put-out frown. "Besides, I'm actually quite good at it. Tell them, Hermione. You said so yourself."

The brunette rolled her eyes. "I never said that," she shot back.

"Your year-end spectacle was brilliant, though," Sirius said. "If I were Lily, I would have snogged you senselessly right there and then."

"Shut it, Padfoot," the blushing wizard murmured under his breath, hitting Sirius on his chest with the pointy end of his elbow.

His parents exchanged amused glances; clearly, they had no idea that James was doing all of these ridiculous things just to _woo_ a girl.

"Who is this Lily?" Euphemia deliberately asked, leaning a tad closer to her son with interest in her eyes.

"You've never talked about a 'Lily' before, James," Fleamont supplemented.

This surprised Hermione greatly because judging from what she had witnessed a while ago, the three Potters were very close. James had no qualms telling them _everything_ , even embarrassing things that had happened to him like getting hexed by a twelve-year-old feisty witch. Surely, James would have spoken about his beloved Lily flower to his parents before.

' _Unless…'_

Her eyes widened as a disbelieving thought appeared in her mind. The Potters were amicable, even warm and welcoming, but they were still _Purebloods_. They still had a bloody house-elf, and their Manor screamed elegance and rich money. Hermione didn't doubt that they'd still be practicing some of the Pureblood customs they were introduced to since time immemorial.

Her heart lurched with pain at the thought that perhaps, _perhaps_ James was ashamed of Lily because of her blood status. Sure, he had specifically told her that he would _never_ casually throw that slur to her, or to anyone at all, but just because they never openly showed their disdain to those of lower blood, didn't mean they never had any hidden hatred for those who didn't share their Pureblood status.

"She's my best friend," Hermione suddenly explained. James gave her a warning glare, but she steadfastly ignored it. "Brilliant witch with a huge, lovely heart. She was Sorted in Gryffindor, too, and an incoming sixth year like James and the rest." She swallowed down the bile that seemed to rise up from her throat. "She's a Muggle-born."

She waited in bated breath, trying to gauge the reactions of the older Potters. She expected a slight curl of the lip or maybe a brief glint of disgust. She desperately prayed none of those would show because they were really nice people and Hermione wanted to like them both.

" _Oh_ ," Euphemia said with recognition. "You mean Lily _Evans_?"

"Ah," Fleamont chuckled. "Yes, yes, of course. He never really said her name that frequently. Always 'Evans' this or 'Evans' that." He shared a conspiratorial grin with his wife. "We've always wondered who this elusive 'Evans' was."

James's cheeks were flaming red and he was still glaring darkly at her. Hermione, on the other hand, silently sighed in relief. It was ridiculous of her to even think they were bigots like the Blacks and the Malfoys. James had been really pleasant to the Muggle-borns at school despite his blood status. Surely, this stemmed from his upbringing.

"Anyway, we've bothered you long enough," Fleamont said as he rose up from the couch. He sauntered closer to his wife and pulled her to her feet. "We'll leave you younglings to have fun without the adults."

"But not _too much_ fun," Euphemia warned with a small frown on her face. Her eyes settled on Sirius, who grew sheepish under her gaze. "Am I making myself clear?"

Their chorus of 'yes' brought a smile to her face. She then looked at Hermione and her smile grew. "But now that you are here, I am not quite so worried anymore," she added, prompting the younger witch to laugh.

"I have some handy spells up my sleeves if they get out of line," Hermione promised.

"Iron fist," Peter hissed with a teasing glint in his eyes.

The couple laughed and bid them goodbye, promising to call for them once dinner was ready.

Once they were gone, a huge grin that spelled danger appeared on Sirius's face. "Anyone fancy a game of Exploding Snap?" he asked.

Hermione sighed.

This would be a long day.

* * *

**August 9, 1976**

She was idly reading a book in the guest bedroom when she spied the Marauders marching outside, blankets and pieces of tent tucked under their armpits. The boys were also clutching some pillows and board games, looking as if they were about to go camping.

The brunette frowned and shot up from her seat, a little put-out at not being invited. She quickly ran from her room and out of Potter Manor, briefly halting to marvel the lovely garden at the back of the Manor. Hermione took a mental note to visit this garden once more.

"Where are you going?" she cried, urging her feet to go faster to catch up with the boys. Thankfully, they had stopped and had turned around to face Hermione.

"We're going _somewhere_ , kitten," Sirius explained, an uncertain smile on his face.

"I can see that," she said, pointedly looking at the things they were holding. "But where?"

James sighed and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "There's a small cabin near the Potter Manor. It isn't too far away; you can actually see it on top of a little hill from the Manor window. But it's secluded enough to stop passers-by from stumbling across it."

Hermione narrowed her eyes in curiosity as her gaze landed on Remus. The werewolf looked already tired and a bit impatient, listlessly bristling as his eyes constantly darted heavenward.

"Oh," she deadpanned, realisation dawning. "It's a full moon today."

"Clever observation," Remus angrily snapped.

The brunette quirked an eyebrow, surprised with his attitude. The werewolf deflated and grumpily looked away.

"Cranky Remus always makes an appearance when the full moon is near," Sirius explained. "You must forgive him."

"I'm coming with you," she said without thinking. Remus instantly paled, while Peter's jaw dropped and he instantly trudged towards Hermione.

"Are you insane?" he sputtered out. "Hermione, _no_. It's dangerous."

The witch thoughtfully bit her bottom lip, trying to come up with a solution. It was undeniably dangerous, of course. Her last encounter with Remus in his werewolf form was still fresh in her mind, and undoubtedly also fresh in _theirs_. But she really wanted to come and she was curious as to how the Animagi transformed into their animal forms. Besides, she could finally complete her potion tonight and spit out the Mandrake leaf from inside her mouth.

Her eyes then resolutely settled on James. "Potter Manor is heavily warded, right?" she started.

James frowned in suspicion. "Yes," he answered. "Ancient magic and all that shite. Although we do not dabble with blood wards because _Merlin_ my mother would have a conniption if we ever did that. The wards my father use to keep the Manor safe are quite complicated."

"And these wards," she continued, "they're not merely confined to your Manor but to the surrounding vicinity too, right?"

"Where's this conversation going?" he asked, his frown deepening with obvious discomfort.

"This cabin you're going to, I'm sure it is heavily warded, too," she continued. She apologetically met Remus's eyes. "Of course they both know about your affliction, and still welcomed you openly, but they also knew about the dangers of housing a werewolf during a full moon. I'm quite sure Mr. Potter placed enough wards surrounding the cabin to make sure that no one will get hurt; not even _you_ , Remus."

His gold eyes held her gaze, an indecipherable look in them. "There are wards," he slowly started, "that make sure I will not be able to get out of the cabin once I'm transformed. It's more restricting than the Shrieking Shack, but unlike Hogwarts, there isn't a Forbidden Forest. The population in the town near the Manor is also thrice more than Hogsmeade. We all agreed we have to take necessary precautions."

"Remus!" Peter exclaimed. "Don't say anything else that might give her ideas."

Hermione ignored her brother. "Well, there you have it," she casually said. "Just as long as I don't enter the cabin, I will be safe."

Remus slumped forward and gave her a withering glance. "I almost hurt you last time, Hermione," he reminded, his jaw tensed. "It will really be best if you stay away."

"I can run away again," she said with a half-hearted shrug. "Now, come on. The moon is about to ascend the horizon."

She turned on her heel and marched forward, aware of the pairs of eyes boring holes into the back of her skull. Hermione was determined to learn more about becoming an Animagi tonight and no one was going to stop her. She was being mighty stubborn about this, as it was truly dangerous after all, but she'd be ready if things didn't go her way. They just have to trust her.

She heard collective sighs behind her and secretly grinned, knowing they had realised that arguing with her would be pointless once she had set her mind to something.

Peter soon rushed forward to walk beside her. She darted a sideway glance at her brother and softly smiled, seeing the disgruntled look on his face. "I'll be fine," she appeased, looping her arm with his.

He sighed once more but didn't offer any reply, only steadfastly matching his pace with hers.

They finally reached the small cabin on the outskirts of the Potter Manor Estate. It was smaller than the Shrieking Shack, but definitely more well-kept.

"Well, see you tomorrow," Remus gruffly claimed, trudging inside the cabin and slamming the door behind him with a soft thud.

"You're not going with him?" Hermione asked, glancing at the other three.

"Mum forbids it," James glumly said as he deposited the blankets and pillows on a nearby tree stump. "I know she means well, and she worries for our safety. We even told her we're illegal Animagi just to convince her Remus wouldn't harm us if we are in our animal forms. But… yeah."

"Remus agreed immediately, that wanker," Sirius said as he pulled out his wand and waved it in the air. The poles and tent sheets danced in the air as they rearranged themselves to form a decent tent. "We all know he didn't like the arrangement but he bloody agreed. We tried to break in once, but Euphemia found out and went ballistic. She almost banned us from accompanying Remus, so the stupid bastard insisted that we should just listen to her."

"That's Remus for you," Peter said with a sigh, grabbing onto the blankets and pillows and disappearing behind the tent flap.

"Then, what do you do while you wait for him to transform back?" she asked.

James shrugged. "Stuff," he said. "Most of the time, we roam around the nearby town in our Animagi forms. Sometimes we just hang out inside the tent. But now that you're here…"

Hermione scoffed and gave him a withering glare. "Please," she snapped, "don't let my presence stop you from doing your shenanigans."

The bespectacled boy grinned and ruffled his hair. "Who said you're going to stop us?" he shot back. He laughed and turned on his heel, promptly changing into his majestic Animagus form. Hermione emitted a soft gasp, finally beholding James fully in his stag form. She hadn't really properly looked at him, because last time, she was busy running for her life. But now, with the soft moonlight shining down on him, she couldn't deny that he was really beautiful. Harry's Patronus was spectacular, of course, but it paled in comparison with James's form.

The stag proudly held up his head and stood a tad taller, obviously preening under her appreciative gaze.

"Berk," she said, laughing when he tried to nuzzle his nose against her hand.

Inside the cabin, Remus's familiar howl resounded across the vast field. Hermione unwittingly flinched and then smiled when James nuzzled his nose against her hand once more.

"I'm all right," she said, patting his snout.

Peter and Sirius both emerged from the tent and grinned upon seeing James. Sirius shifted into a black dog and excitedly padded towards James, playfully sniping at one of his hind legs. She watched in amusement as the two chased each other around the field.

Her eyes landed on Peter when he touched her elbow. "You can spit out the Mandrake leaf now," he pointed out, tilting his head up at the visible full moon.

Hermione wordlessly nodded her head and rummaged inside her satchel. She pulled out the empty crystal vial and lifted it in the air until the moonlight hit the glass, breaking into small glittering lights that twinkled like the stars above.

Satisfied the whole glass was touched by the rays of the moon, Hermione uncorked the vial and spat the saliva-filled Mandrake leaf inside. "Good riddance," she sighed in relief, prompting Peter to softly chuckle beside her.

"It has a weird taste," he concurred with a grin. "I couldn't eat properly for months because it always spoiled the food."

Hermione then sat down on the tree stump and pulled out the other ingredients for the potion. She plucked a strand of her hair, placed the fresh, untouched morning dew inside, and lastly, added the chrysalis of a Death's-head Hawk Moth Sirius had graciously given to her a while ago.

Once everything was inside, Hermione gave it a small swish, watching as the ingredients dissolved and turned into a concoction as silver as the moonlight itself.

"Now, we just wait for a thunderstorm," Peter said with a sigh. "Prior to that, remember to repeat—"

" _Amato Animo Animato Animagus_ ," Hermione finished off, grinning when her brother rolled his eyes. "I know, Peter. I've memorised the steps."

"Of course you have."

She laughed and carefully placed the complete concoction inside her satchel. Weather forecasts for the following days spoke of an impending thunderstorm and all Hermione had to do was repeat the incantation every sunrise and sundown until thunder struck. It wouldn't be too hard now.

"You're not going to transform?" she asked, glancing sideways at her brother when Peter comfortably sat down on the grass beside her.

"Eh," he dismissively claimed. "I'm small compared to the other two so if I tried to engage in their ridiculous chase, I might get trampled upon." When he saw Hermione's look, he growled. "I know, I know, it sucks to be a rat when your best friends can change into a majestic stag or a frightening dog. I was annoyed for a bit when I found out I could only transform into a rat."

"Your Animagus has its merits," Hermione comforted, reaching forward to squeeze his arm. "Like, for example, you can escape from a dark wizard unnoticed. I'm sure you will pass your Concealment and Disguise course during your Auror training without much of a hitch."

He made a noncommittal sound at the back of his throat and stretched his legs in front of him. He watched contentedly as his best friends continued playing around, the corner of his mouth twitching every time Sirius started barking too loud or when James's antlers got stuck against a low branch.

"You're really all right, Hermione?"

Hermione furrowed her brows and looked at her brother again. "Never been better, Petey," she replied.

He worriedly peered at her, his lips tugged into a small frown. "I know it's already weeks ago but… _you know_ , with the full moon and Moony…"

"I'm really fine," she reassured with a small smile. She patted her satchel and added, "I'm going to turn into an Animagus soon, so the worry is unnecessary."

Peter sighed and watched his best friends again, guilt in his eyes. "We're truly sorry for that day," he quietly continued.

"I know."

"After everything that had happened…" Peter paused and slumped forward. "We were total berks that day, Hermione. Because of our stupid bullying, you and Snape almost _died_. I told them maybe we went a little overboard and we agreed we shouldn't have let our stupid egos get the better of us."

" _You_ told them?" she gasped, swivelling around to train her blue eyes on her brother.

Peter coloured under the pale moonlight. "Well, you did say I should stand up to my best friends if I think they're being berks. So, I did." He gave her a toothy grin, his eyes lit up with a certain happiness Hermione had never seen him wear before. "It felt good to be listened to by your best friends, you know."

Hermione mirrored his grin, her heart fluttering at the thought that her brother - who worshipped Sirius and James like they both were his heroes; who hesitated on defying his best friends request, because he feared they would dislike him; who sometimes turned a blind eye when they were being too insolent to those they pranked – had stood up against them because he knew they were doing something wrong and that it had to be _stopped_.

Tears prickled her blue eyes because she now fervently believed that this boy – her _brother_ – who she had grown up with and had come to love unconditionally, had grown out of his shell of insecurity and fear and had become the brave, loyal Gryffindor she hoped he would be.

She leaned down and drew him into a tight hug. "I'm so proud of you, Petey," she whispered, feeling a tad silly how a tear slipped down from her eye. But she really couldn't deny the relief she felt.

"Merlin, Hermione, no need to get all sappy," he complained.

Hermione merely chuckled and squeezed him tight.

* * *

**August 10, 1976**

James was jerked awake when sudden movement disturbed his sleep.

He blearily blinked his hazy eyes and grabbed onto his spectacles which lay on his bedside table. A yawn tore away from his mouth as he sat up and glanced at the other occupants of the spacious tent. Peter and Sirius were still fast asleep, the former trying to wake up the whole town with his ridiculous snoring, whilst the latter muttered incomprehensible words, clearly dreaming. He looked at the other bed where Hermione slept but was surprised to see that the bed was made and she was gone.

Frowning, James stood up from his bed and ruffled his hair, knowing full well he'd just made his bed hair more impossibly dishevelled.

Another silent yawn fought its way out of his mouth as he ducked through the tent flap. He froze when he spied Hermione's bushy hair, disappearing inside the cabin.

"Fuck," he gasped, but then willed his heart to slow down when he spied the sun making its slow ascent over the horizon. Besides, if she were able to pass through the barrier, it meant that Remus had transformed back into his human form.

Curiosity now trampled his consternation as James continued to quietly trail behind the brunette.

He was now used to the mess Remus always made when he was in werewolf form, but Hermione wasn't. The corner of his lips twitched when she stared at the destruction with abject horror, before she pulled out her wand and absentmindedly _Reparo_ -ed as much as she could.

James didn't know why he opted to keep his presence unknown. He was more content watching her furrow her brows in concentration and bite her plump, bottom lip, trying to release a large amount of magic during this early hour.

By the time she was finished, a few of her curls stuck against her forehead and she absentmindedly brushed them away and continued.

He trailed not too far behind, skipped a few floorboards he knew would noisily creak, and stopped at the doorframe when Hermione zoomed inside the room and instantly went besides Remus's sleeping form. His best friend was sprawled on top of the ripped bed, fitfully sleeping. There were new gashes on his face and arms and he even had a busted lip.

James sighed. Last night's transformation might have been hard for Remus because they weren't beside him. If only he hadn't agreed so easily to Euphemia when his mother gave her conditions, then he wouldn't be suffering alone.

Hermione's face crumpled when she saw his wounds and immediately fell on her knees beside the bed. He curiously watched as she rummaged inside her satchel and pulled out a small tub. When she opened the lid, he recognised a healing ointment of some sort, something Madame Pomfrey had kept stacked inside the school infirmary.

She then daintily applied the ointment on all of Remus's wounds, double-checking everything to make sure she didn't miss a spot or to check she had applied enough.

Something stirred in James's heart, something he hadn't really felt before, something foreign and uncomfortable but definitely, _definitely_ not unpleasant.

There was a certain softness on her face, concentrating with all her might just to bloody apply an ointment on his best friend's wounds. Her ridiculous curls kept on rebelliously blocking her view, but Hermione would just brush them away to continue her small ministrations.

By the time she was done, she admired her handiwork and stood up. Hermione then gently tucked Remus under the blanket, brushed a few hairs of his fringe away, and dug inside her satchel. She pulled out a bar of chocolate and placed it beside Remus's sleeping form.

James saw her blue eyes then and he instantly thought of his most favourite of days, when the blue sky was cloudless and clear, perfect for flying. He liked those days the most, because when he was airborne, he'd tilt his head and stare heavenward, feeling marvellously tiny under the vastness of the clear, blue sky. And Hermione's blue eyes were like the sky – clear and bright and so, so _vast_ , like the depths in them could spiral him into a universe he had never explored before.

A beat skipped. And another. And try as he might, he couldn't make sense of it.

By then, Hermione had fully stood up and had turned on her heel, only to expel a soft scream upon seeing she wasn't alone.

"How long have you been there?" she demanded, a hand flying up to her heart to calm its beating.

James dumbly stared for a while, suddenly tongue-tied and confused. He wanted to say words that never formed, his mind still swirling with the image of her eyes and the sky and the euphoria of staring at their endless beauty.

"Potter?" she asked, slowly knitting her eyebrows in worry at his silence.

This snapped him out of his reverie and felt himself warming under her curious gaze. "I – I wanted to check on Remus," he managed to stumble out. "Turns out you've beaten me to it."

"Oh," she said, a small smile growing on her face as she stared down at the slumbering boy. "He's all right. Quite tired, I'm sure."

Hermione's gaze landed back on him again, uncertainty written on her face. "I should go back," she deliberately said.

James mutely nodded, his heartbeat quickening when she walked towards him. He froze when she stopped in front of him – was she always this _tiny_? – and tilted her head. Her forehead briefly brushed against his chin; the touch was brief, but it jolted all of his nerves awake. Her blue eyes glinted in amusement. "You're in the way, Potter," she said, one corner of her mouth lifting into a small smirk.

"Right, of course," he said, hastily stepping aside to let her through.

Hermione gave him another dubious glance before passing by, walking away without another single glance back.

But his eyes found themselves latched onto her wild, bushy hair and James couldn't seem to look away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, I researched about the Potters to give their Manor some justice and I'm surprised that the only property they owned mentioned in canon was the Potter Cottage at Godric's Hollow. Granted, they're not Sacred Twenty-Eight but I believe they're still an old, filthy rich Pureblood family so yes, Potter Manor was born ahahaha.
> 
> Also, have you read the instructions on how to become an Animagus? It's wild and you should totally check it out. I'm legit cackling at the thought of these impatient boys trying – and failing – to perfect their Animagi forms for years until they succeeded.
> 
> Next chapter's a continuation of Hermione's summer with the Marauders! Thank you for all the love and kind words. I love you all.
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr! (kimmy-writes) If you want to talk to me, I'll most likely reply there ahahaha.


	14. chapter thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy smokes this story has already reached 300 kudos! Thank you so much huhu

* * *

**xiii.**

_**it's the fireworks when two souls collide** _

(Falling in Love Pie by Sara Bareilles)

* * *

**August 14, 1976**

Hermione blearily opened her eyes as her alarm went off. She grasped for her wand and gave it a tiny wave. The sound instantly vanished and it took the brunette a few more seconds before she hauled herself up from her bed.

She glanced at the handsome arch-shaped window in the guest room and saw the beginnings of sunrise. Wand in hand, Hermione pressed its tip against her heart and murmured, " _Amato. Animo. Animato_. _Animagus._ "

A thrill ran down her spine when she felt a second heartbeat the book about Animagi transformation had spoken of. She first felt it yesterday during sundown, but she wasn't entirely sure what it was as it was so fleeting. Now that she had felt it once more, it meant she was on the right track. Now all that was left was waiting for a thunderstorm and drinking her hidden potion, for the ritual to be complete.

Hermione let herself marvel the beautiful sunrise, a burst of bright orange and yellow painting the whole sky, and illuminating the lovely garden of the Potter Manor.

It had already been a few days since she and Peter had come to stay in said Manor. Tomorrow, they would be going home to meet Anya and would start getting ready for the next school-year. It surprised her greatly how there was a certain sadness at the thought. Staying at the Potter Manor had been fun, and she had grown considerably closer to the Marauders, despite the shortness of time. They were still rowdy berks, but tolerable enough for Hermione to now join in their fun most of the time. It was laughable, but she would surely miss Sirius's barking laugh, or Remus's snarky retorts, and James's mischievous hazel eyes.

A part of her hoped it would soon be September 1st.

She stared outside for a few more minutes before deciding to start freshening up for the day. It was still too early and because it was summer, the other occupants of the Manor wouldn't get out from their beds for another two or three hours more. Ever since she had started doing this ritual, Hermione found herself unable to sleep anymore and had decided to explore Potter Manor until she was called for breakfast.

For the last few days, she had discovered delightful rooms and even talked with some of the illustrious ancestors of the Potter family. Hermione was particularly acquainted with the portrait of Linfred of Stinchcombe, who was said to be the founding patriarch of the Potter family. He was an eccentric man, with the famous raven, dishevelled hair of a Potter, who had different potted plants scattered around him in his portrait. He often spoke about his fascinating potion experiments that ultimately led to the development of Skele-Gro and Pepper-Up. Hermione once pointed out to the talkative man that her best friend would love to meet him, seeing he was a Potions prodigy himself. Linfred had told her to invite him over, but Hermione softly snorted, imagining Severus Snape's horror when he discovered he was invited to come over Potter Manor.

As Hermione donned a turquoise sweater and placed her wand in the back pocket of her jeans, she had already decided she would peruse the library today. She had been there a few times in the past, accomplishing her homework and doing some light reading, but she was always swept away by the Marauders for another adventure. She would appreciate some quiet before she was surrounded by testosterone-filled boys with a thirst for ridiculous quests.

She walked out of her quaint bedroom and opened the door. The corridors were still quiet; most of the paintings were still dozing.

Hermione travelled along the corridor until she reached the imposing oak wooden doors of the library.

Her breath still hitched every time she entered the huge library. They weren't as well off as the Potters, so Anya was only able to afford a few shelves for Hermione's piling book collection. If they had a library as humongous as this back home, Hermione knew she wouldn't be able to leave.

She randomly picked a book on Arithmancy and settled on the comfortable maroon, velvety chair in front of a smaller fireplace. She swished her wand at the fireplace to start a fire.

Comfortable, she leaned her head against the backrest and lost herself in the sea of words and numbers.

She was in a particularly gripping part of the book when a hand touched her shoulder. She stiffened and straightened up, wand instantly in her hand in case she needed to attack.

"Hey, it's just me."

She met her brother's amused eyes and felt a blush creep up to her cheeks. "You didn't have to sneak up on me," she reprimanded.

Peter quirked an eyebrow. "I called your name thrice but you never looked up from your book." He leaned closer to read the words on the page and then snorted. "Typical of you to become engrossed with Arithmancy."

"It's a very good book," she defended, hugging said book against her chest as if to give it comfort.

"Yes, yes, if you say so," he flippantly said. "Anyway, breakfast is ready and we're all waiting for you."

"Already?" she asked, surprised. It felt like she had just started reading ten minutes ago.

Peter grinned, highly amused by her confusion. "Yes, already," he said, lightly clutching her elbow to pull her up. "Come on. You know how Sirius gets when he's forced to wait to eat."

"He's not even a Potter, blimey," she murmured under her breath.

The sandy-haired boy expelled a soft laugh. "Don't let him hear that."

**-ooo-**

The tension was thick in the Drawing Room of Potter Manor later that day, when Hermione received a letter from Severus announcing he had finally got his OWL scores. The Slytherin boasted all 'O's in the core subjects, another 'O' for Divination, and two 'Es' for Arithmancy and Care of Magical Creatures. She had already penned her congratulations to her best friend and promised to treat him during their first Hogsmeade weekend.

Lily still hadn't contacted Hermione about her OWL scores, but she knew it wouldn't take too long.

Since then, the other sixth years were on edge. Perhaps it was Remus who was the most relaxed of them all, seeing that he wasn't aiming to become an Auror after graduation. But, Hermione still noticed how he clenched and unclenched his jaw and had been poorly concealing how unfocused he was on the book he was reading.

Sirius and James comically started wearing down the rich carpet with their constant pacing. Hermione mentally counted that they were already on their fifteenth march.

It was Peter who was the most nervous of them all, incessantly voicing out his fears of failing the important OWLs. Hermione by now had been mechanically soothing his nerves, telling him he did very well and he shouldn't get too ahead of himself.

Truthfully, Hermione was nervous for them too and hadn't been able to make any further progress with her Arithmancy book. Pokey had brought over tea and scones an hour ago, but they were still left untouched by the jittery teenagers.

All their eyes landed on the window when a small, lovely owl pecked its beak against the pane.

"Is it—" Peter tightly gripped the edge of the coffee table, looking like he might faint.

"Sorry, blokes," Hermione said with a sheepish smile. "But I recognise that owl. It's Lily's."

James cursed under his breath and resumed his pacing. Sirius had now plopped down on the carpeted floor, his eyes already staring blankly at the roaring fire.

Hermione bit her bottom lip, knowing it wouldn't be wise if she started to laugh at them, and sprang out from the divan she was sitting on. She unlatched the window and let Lily's owl, Daisy, fly inside. Hermione grabbed a few treats from the pouch near the window and thanked Daisy. The bird hooted her thanks and stuck out her claw, waiting for Hermione to untangle the letter. The owl took flight as soon as the letter was freed and zoomed out of the window.

She immediately scanned Lily's letter and grinned.

"How did Lily do?"

Hermione craned her neck and met James' curious eyes. "Nine 'O's and one 'E'," she answered.

Sirius emitted a low whistle. "Way to go, Evans," he murmured.

She made a mental note to pen her congratulations to her other best friend with another promise to treat her on their first Hogsmeade weekend.

Before Hermione could take her seat, incessant tapping from the window was heard once more. This time, multiple pecks were heard and everybody in the room stilled.

Hermione moved first and turned on her heel. Four, excitedly flapping birds were waiting impatiently to be let inside the room, clutching an official Hogwarts letter in their beaks. "I don't have other best friends," she slowly started, "so I'm quite sure those owls are for you."

"Fuuuck," James whined, plopping down beside Sirius, their backs facing the window. Peter had buried his face beneath his arms and had stopped moving all together.

Hermione then questioningly darted a glance at Remus, who looked paler, his healing scars now stark under the dim lights of the drawing room. "Honestly?" the werewolf said, a shaky smile stretched wide on his face. "I don't think I can stand, Hermione."

The brunette expelled a huge sigh and trudged towards the window once more. The owls immediately flew inside when she pushed the window open and respectively went to the wizards bearing the name on the envelopes they were clutching between their beaks. Hermione waited until they had deposited their letters and gave each of them treats.

Once they had flown away, Hermione closed the window once more, before looking back at the silent wizards.

"Moment of truth," she announced, the corner of her lips twitching when they suddenly erupted into groaning litanies of flowery curses.

Hermione immediately went towards her brother and tightly held his hand. Remus was already deliberately opening his letter. Sirius and James exchanged theirs, demanding that the other should only shout at the top of his lungs if they had decent grades.

"Come on, Petey," Hermione urged, waving the letter in front of his face.

"I can't open it, Hermione," he moaned. "Read it for me."

She flinched when Sirius and James erupted into an ear-splitting shout, immediately climbing onto their feet and giddily jumping up and down like a bunch of kids who had discovered that Father Christmas as real. Remus was marginally calmer, but the smile that broke on his face was far and wide like the horizon.

They were now quizzically looking over the Pettigrew siblings, silent apprehension on their faces as they waited to hear how Peter had done on his OWLs.

"Moment of truth," she repeated once more. She softly giggled, noting that her hands were also shaking as she broke off the Hogwarts seal. She had stopped breathing all together as her eyes quickly devoured the words written on the parchment.

"Well?" Peter squeaked, still unable to look at his sister.

Hermione suddenly expelled an uncharacteristic squeal and threw her arms around her brother. "You did it!" she cried.

"He did?" James asked as the other three scrambled towards them. Remus snatched the letter from Hermione's limp hands and they fought each other to take a peek at Peter's letter.

" _Holy shite_ , Wormtail," James guffawed, a look of utter disbelief and unconcealed happiness in his hazel eyes. "You got two 'O's, seven 'E's, and an 'A'. But that's all right, because you've passed all of the subjects needed to qualify as an Auror. The _acceptable_ was Divination because you were bloody fucking sleeping during the exam, you wanker! It was a miracle you even passed it."

"I did it," Peter gasped, his blue eyes widening in incredulity. "I – I actually did it!"

Sirius pulled him onto his feet and the four Marauders went into a huge group hug that made Hermione fondly laugh. Their happiness was ridiculously infectious and Hermione felt like she had passed her OWLs too even though she still hadn't taken them.

James's eyes met hers and the grin on his face widened. "Come join in, Hermione," he teased. "If it weren't for you, we'd be bloody failures right now. Except Moony, of course, because he would have surely still gotten all 'O's even without you."

"I got nine," Remus cheekily corrected. "So not all."

"Berk, that's still amazing!" Sirius pointed out with a barking laugh.

Peter grasped Hermione's arm and pulled her towards the group. She was immediately enveloped by different pairs of arms, crushed tightly until she couldn't breathe. But Hermione was merrily laughing, genuinely happy for these people she had come to consider as her friends.

**-ooo-**

Since James had gotten five 'O's, three 'E's, and two 'A's; and Sirius had managed to get four 'O's, five 'E's, and one 'A', Fleamont and Euphemia had agreed they could have a celebration that night. James suggested a bonfire near the cabin on the hill, announcing that according to the Daily Prophet, the skies would be clear that night.

James and Sirius went to Diagon Alley to do some last-minute buying of snacks and drinks, while the other three were left to build the bonfire. Remus placed comfortable blankets near the fireplace and added some throw pillows they could relax on while they gazed at the stars and played some board games. Hermione thought it would be lovely to string up some fairy lights on the nearby trees, to illuminate the whole field. Peter threw a spell towards the stacks of wood and started a blazing fire.

By the time James and Sirius were back, hauling piles of food and cases of drink Hermione definitely knew were alcoholic, they were ready for their small party.

"Do your parents know you're drinking?" she asked with a disapproving frown. It wasn't that she disliked drinking, but they were still underage.

James and Sirius exchanged wicked grins. "They will if someone tells them, kitten," Sirius said, throwing her a conspiratorial grin.

"Liven up, 'Mione," Peter said with a laugh. "It'll just be today, promise. Besides, I know you always keep a bunch of Sobering Potions in your bag."

"Hermione!" James gasped, a mock scandalised expression on his face.

"It's not like that," she lamely protested, knowing they wouldn't understand that it had become some sort of habit for her to bring a range of potions along with her – Sobering Potion in particular, as in her past life, Harry Potter sometimes turned to alcohol to drown his misery away. She knew it was a stupid habit, because none of the people she was close with in this timeline were on the verge of spiralling out of control.

"We'll keep your dirty little secret, kitten, don't worry," Sirius said as he lazily slung an arm over Hermione's shoulder.

Peter's eyes almost looked like they would pop out from their sockets. "Hermione!" he gasped, this time in real, abject horror.

Hermione sighed and gruffly pushed Sirius's heavy arm away. "It's not what you think, Peter," she said and immediately stalked off towards the pile of various snacks to stop them from asking any more dangerous questions.

Thankfully, the Marauders let it slide and started horsing around. James and Remus managed to transfigure one tree into a radio that actually managed to produce lovely music that echoed in the vast field.

Hermione started to relax soon after, even letting herself drink a shot or two of firewhiskey, but never more than that, because that was when her head got very fuzzy and she couldn't think clearly.

The boys were growing more boisterous and obnoxious, as Sirius challenged Peter to a game of some kind of drunken Wizard Chess she didn't bother understanding. They appointed Remus as their referee and the werewolf was content making snide, scathing remarks when a stupid mistake was made by a player. Hermione found it quite amusing that Cranky Remus also appeared when he was very drunk and would have loved to mercifully tease him. But she would do that once he was sober.

Her veins buzzed with the excitement of the party and alcohol and Hermione decided she would just relax for a bit. She sat down on one of the blankets near the fire and hugged a pillow against her chest, letting the crackling fire and the cool breeze lull her into a peaceful trance.

**-ooo-**

"No, you _idiot_ , what were you thinking?"

James snorted and watched as Sirius cowered and sheepishly glanced at the irate Remus. It always amused him every time Remus got drunk because his cranky self would appear and would start criticising everyone around him. Even his best friends weren't safe from his snarky attitude.

Peter comically placed both of his hands under his chin, deep in thought, as he blearily gazed at the chessboard. His hand hovered on a pawn, before he questioningly looked at Remus. The werewolf glowered, prompting him to flinch. Peter immediately moved his hand over his queen, took another peek at Remus, and sighed in relief when he looked approving.

"Cheat!" Sirius loudly accused, pointing a finger towards the smaller boy.

"I am not!" he hotly replied with a glare.

Sirius narrowed his eyes and purposively hovered his hand over a knight. He then pointedly looked at Remus, who was now baring his teeth, and snorted. "Look at this berk, scowling even before we make mistakes," he said, jutting a thumb towards him. "I don't think you are fit to be our referee, Moony."

Remus grumbled and grabbed a discarded pawn. He then flicked it towards Sirius, which hit him squarely on his forehead. The shaggy-haired teen gaped at him in surprise, before his silver eyes glinted menacingly and he proceeded to twirl his wand in the air. All the chess pieces lifted in the air and, with a mischievous smile, Sirius boomed a loud, "ATTACK!"

The chess pieces suddenly zoomed towards Remus and the werewolf jumped onto his feet, ready to defend himself.

Peter was now bent over the grass, laughing uncontrollably, while Remus haphazardly swung his wand in the air like a sword, trying to block the attack.

"Fucking wankers," James roared, also laughing gleefully at their drunken antics. He and Sirius had made a good decision to buy firewhiskey, even though Hermione loudly disapproved of it.

' _Speaking of the witch_ … _'_

His eyes blearily looked around, trying to locate the brunette. He spotted her almost immediately - snuggled on one of the blankets near the bonfire. She looked deep in thought, her blue eyes staring almost unseeing at the fire, but her face looked relaxed and open. Perhaps it was the alcohol or the ambiance tonight, but her guard was definitely down.

James frowned and looked away, trying to make sense of the sudden stirrings in his heart once more. Ever since he'd seen her the day after the full moon, James had started to notice her _more_. Mostly insignificant things, really, like how she'd always softly hum when she browsed for the right book to read; or how she bit her bottom lip when she was deep in thought; or how sometimes, he'd notice that when she was disapproving, her nose scrunched up a little. They were little nuances he'd never noticed before, subtle but already speaking volumes of Hermione as a person.

It was _jarring_ , especially for him, because he'd never really taken the time to properly observe her. It required too much effort, too much silence, and James was never a silent, patient man. But he found himself unable to stop his staring, trying to pry open whatever other secrets Hermione Pettigrew hid, that would make him understand whatever it was he was feeling.

While his other friends continued their ridiculous squabble, James found himself drawing closer to the younger witch. He wasn't even aware that his feet were acting on their own, his head already fuzzy from too much alcohol and the warmth emitted by the crackling fire.

But it was too late now to return to his friends because Hermione looked over her shoulder and noticed him. He thickly swallowed when he noted how the licking fire danced in her clear, blue eyes and he had to force himself to look away before he got burnt.

"All right, Pettigrew?" he casually asked. His right hand twitched mercilessly and he couldn't stop himself when he lifted it and ran it through his hair.

 _Merlin_ , his body really had a mind of its own today.

"Yeah," she replied, gazing at the fire once more. "You?"

"Same," he dully said, lowering himself onto the ground to sit beside her.

For a moment, he basked under the warmth of the bonfire, mesmerised at how it crackled and swayed in the wind. From behind, the ruckus his friends were making, was starting to fade, and all he could see was the fire in front of his eyes and the enigmatic brunette sitting beside him.

Quite close, he reckoned.

 _Too_ close.

"I want to show you something," he blurted out before he could stop himself. His cheeks reddened when she looked at him questioningly, but James was already pulling his wand from his pocket. " _Accio_ guitar!"

A small smile appeared on her face as they both gazed in the direction of the Potter Manor. James soon spotted his guitar flying toward him. He lifted his awaiting hands and grasped the handle, bringing it closer to his chest.

"I've been practicing a lot," he rambled, seemingly unable to look at her blue eyes. "I think my parents started putting Silencing Charms around the house every time I strum the blasted thing."

"You've grown quite fond of it," she pointed out matter-of-factly.

A corner of his lips twitched upward. "It is a good companion," he confessed. "It actually cleared my mind when I was too stressed over the OWLs."

His eyes widened when Hermione reached forward and tenderly placed a hand on his guitar. Her small hand was inches away from his, but he could feel it – the warmth, the softness, all of its curves – and his hand twitched once more, begging for a touch, just to see if his thoughts were congruent with the reality of holding her hand.

He balked at his thoughts and hastily positioned his hands into their proper place. His heart was stupidly stuttering and he was unable to look at Hermione. He knew the brunette looked confused, but had thankfully stayed quiet.

"So, yes, I want to show you something," he nervously sputtered out. He started strumming, his fingers moving effortlessly to play the chords he had now memorised by heart.

She gasped in recognition and ducked her head. "Oh," she said. "I know this song!"

In spite of the confusion he was feeling, James managed to smile. "I figured this was an important song for you," he said, continuing to strum the intro for 'The Long and Winding Road'. "It was, after all, the song you showed me before."

He allowed himself to take a peek at her face. Hermione had closed her eyes and was happily humming the song under her breath. James wasn't sure what she was thinking, what memory she had conjured in her mind, but the corners of her eyes were crinkled – like she was really, truly happy just hearing the song.

While his fingers worked to strum the chords, his eyes were unable to look away from her face. Her bushy hair almost looked golden, the blazing fire illuminating every strand. Up close, he noticed that she actually had a dusting of freckles across her nose, and if he just moved closer, he'd be able to count them individually. Her lips were drawn into a smile, and he wasn't entirely sure why it looked almost forlorn.

He drew in a deep breath and forced himself to look away. His heartbeat had grown erratic, as if a million pixies were let loose and wreaking havoc inside his heart. James blamed it entirely to having one too many firewhiskeys that night, the fuzziness in his mind heightened by the warmth of the bonfire.

He finally strummed the last chord and his hands stopped moving. His other three friends were still boisterously laughing, but the ruckus was drowned out by the sudden rush of blood in his ears.

"Thank you, James," she whispered.

There was something in the tone of her voice that made him look at her again. Hermione's eyes had fluttered open, as a small tear trailed down her freckled cheek. The smile on her face was strangely happy and sad at the same time.

James truly wanted to blame the alcohol, or the rushing blood in his ears, even the blazing warmth in front of him. He wanted to blame his uncooperative body, or the twitching of his hands, even her clear, blue eyes that almost looked like the morning sky despite the darkness surrounding them.

He truly wanted to blame something _else_ because it didn't make any sense to him when he suddenly leant down and pressed his lips against hers.

Her lips were soft and warm. One of his hands lifted to cradle her jaw, but before he could even touch her cheek he stilled, realised _what the bloody fucking hell he was doing_ , and immediately pulled away as if he had been burnt by a roaring, all-consuming fire.

Hermione was staring at him with wide eyes, her pink lips parted open with unadulterated shock. James was sure he mirrored her expression.

"I – I, holy shite, I don't know what came over me," he sputtered out, watching in amazement as blood slowly crept to cover her whole face. "I – I mean, _fuck_ , sorry that wasn't meant to happen. I think I had too much to drink, and it was really _warm_ , and you were so close, and your eyes were—" He bit his tongue very hard before he continued to make a fool out of himself.

He nervously ran a hand through his hair and briefly glanced over at his friends. Blessedly, they were still busy horsing around and had not witnessed what had just transpired between them. He nervously swallowed when Peter threw a painful punch at Sirius's shoulder after the dark-haired boy had thrown a poorly-aimed hex in his direction. It wasn't that he was afraid of _Peter_ ; far from it really because he was usually impressionable and he always let them get away with things. But he'd seen how mightily protective of his sister he was, and had grown a rigid spine and glared at anyone who wished to harm her. James didn't doubt it would be his face he would be punching right now if Peter had seen what he had just done to his little sister.

"I'm sorry," he breathed out. "Truly I am, Hermione. I was drunk and you were drunk so I wasn't thinking clearly. _Shite_ , it wasn't even a decent excuse but – but I can't really think—"

He paused when he heard her laugh. Granted, it was soft and maybe a tad nervous, but it was a laugh nonetheless.

"It's all right," she said. "It's – well – maybe it's the alcohol. I'm—" She took a deep breath and expelled it with another laugh. "It's all right, Potter. No harm done."

James knew he should feel relieved that she was letting him get away with it. But a lump had lodged inside his throat and no matter how much he swallowed it down, it wouldn't leave.

He couldn't look at Hermione, not when he didn't trust himself to not act foolishly once more. He also knew he should get away before he did something he'd later regret. "Right, right, yes," he sputtered out, immediately scrambling onto his feet. "I should…"

"Yeah," she said, turning her head away so that he couldn't see her expression.

James quickly ran towards his friends and collapsed beside a cranky Remus.

"What the hell's wrong with you, Prongsie?" Sirius slurred, falling onto his knees beside James. He placed both of his hands on James's cheeks and hissed. " _Merlin_ , you're burning up."

"Am I?" he breathed out, his traitorous eyes landing on Hermione's curls. She was blessedly facing away from him, because he didn't know what he'd do if he'd seen her clear, blue eyes again.

Beside him, Peter sprawled on the green grass and was quietly staring heavenward for a moment before he quipped, "I think it's going to rain."

Remus snorted. "No, it's not," he said.

"Yes, it is!" Peter protested and wildly gestured his hands into the air. "Look!"

James drew his eyes away from Hermione's hair and looked at the sky. He knitted his eyebrows when he noted the thick, grey clouds rolling into the sky, obscuring the moon and the stars. A distant rumbling echoed in the dark night, and with widened eyes, James once again looked back at Hermione.

The brunette was suddenly on her feet, her eyes also staring at the impending thunderstorm.

"Rain!" Peter exclaimed, immediately shooting up from the ground. He moaned and briefly clutched his head, dizzied by his sudden movement, but he still managed to throw a wonky grin at his sister. "Hermione! Rain!"

Hermione's eyes landed on the Marauders and there was brilliant smile on her face. James momentarily gazed at the sky as the beginnings of rain started showering down on them.

"You still need to do it in a thunderstorm," Remus warned, but there was also undeniable excitement in his eyes.

"Shh!" Sirius hissed when great rumbling was heard above. James held his breath, disregarding the increasing force of the rain and waited for the tell-tale signs of lightning. They were all drenched to the bone but none of them moved. Hermione was still excitedly bouncing on her heels, her eyes darting furiously heavenward in the hope that there would be a sudden flash of light tearing through the night sky.

His friends started to excitedly beg for some thunder, beg for some lightning, just so Hermione's ritual on becoming an Animagus could be completed. Sirius was even loudly listing off things he promised he'd do just so there would be lightning.

A mighty rumble boomed, reducing them into silence. With wide eyes, James caught Hermione's anticipated ones. One, two, and then three seconds passed before her whole face became illuminated in a brief flash of lightning.

Sirius whooped happily as Hermione broke into loud laughter.

"Get the potion!" Peter roared in excitement.

Hermione nodded her head and started to run back to the Manor.

"You can just _Accio_ it, kitten!" Sirius hollered.

The brunette skidded into a halt and craned her neck. "And risk the chance of ruining the potion?" she asked, her blue eyes glittering brightly. "I don't think so!"

She continued her journey back inside. It didn't take too long for her to come back, her wand pointed over head to serve as her umbrella, whilst she cradled the familiar blood-red potion against her chest.

James caught Hermione's eyes once more and pointed at his heart. " _Amato. Animo. Animato. Animagus_ ," he mouthed.

She gave a stern nod and took a deep breath. She pointed her wand against her heart, the rain once again pattering down around her, and loudly echoed the Animagus spell. As soon as she had said the spell, Hermione drank the potion in three, large gulps.

James felt Peter stiffen beside him, because they all knew what was coming next if the potion had been brewed correctly. Lightning tore through the sky again, as Hermione's face twisted in the familiar fiery pain that still brought nightmares to James. It amazed him immensely how she was trying to bite back a cry of pain. When he and his friends had drunk the potion, his ears were filled with their agonised screams.

The brunette doubled over and gasped. Peter darted forward to stand by her side, but James tightly held onto his elbow to stop him. "Stay put," he said when his best friend gave him a glare. "You know that dire consequences happen if she was to lose her focus."

The sandy-haired boy was clearly not pleased, but he sternly nodded his head. With a tensed jaw, he looked back at his sister, only to gasp loudly in surprise.

James whipped his head back to where the brunette stood, but the thing was, she was gone. Peter shrugged his hand off and darted forward, and this time, James didn't stop him.

The bespectacled wizard wiped away some of the rain now clouding his vision and blinked. Peter was now grinning broadly as he bent down and lifted something from the ground. A long, lean honey-coloured cat with round, clear blue eyes blinked back at them in return.

"She did it!" Sirius roared, laughing loudly when Hermione in cat form meowed in reply.

The other three bounded excitedly towards Peter and the newly transformed Animagus. Up close, James could see the long, white whiskers protruding underneath a pink nose. Before he could stop himself, he reached forward and ran a hand through the cat's hair. Hermione released a soft purr and nuzzled against his palm.

"I think," James started, "that she should get a nickname, too."

"I was thinking about that, too!" Sirius excitedly exclaimed.

"How about," Peter deliberately started, "Whiskers?"

Hermione hissed in protest, clearly disgruntled by the suggestion.

"It suits her perfectly," Remus pointed out with a laugh.

Sirius pushed forward and pulled out his wand. He then cleared his throat and tapped them on her shoulders. "Henceforth, I dub thee, 'Whiskers'," he confidently proclaimed.

Hermione meowed unhappily.

**-ooo-**

It took her an hour and a half before she finally went back into her human form. It had taken longer than what she had wanted, but the Marauders assured her it was hard for everyone to revert to and from an Animagus form at the beginning. They didn't doubt she'd be able to transform into her cat form soon in the blink of an eye.

They now moved inside the Drawing Room of the Manor, since the storm outside had become torrential. After murmured drying and warming spells, with blankets thrown over their shoulders, they all huddled close to the fire for some warmth. Hermione opted to towel dry her hair for now, because she knew it would fluff ridiculously and the boys would relentlessly tease her.

Peter was heavily leaning against her arm, his eyes already drooping from exhaustion and alcohol. "You have to sober up first," she murmured, glancing at the other boys who all wore the same expressions of drunken bleariness. It would save them from having a hangover the next day if she forced them to drink the Sobering Potion.

Hermione summoned her satchel, which came hurtling towards her within seconds. She rummaged inside and pulled out four potion bottles and passed one to her brother. "Come on, Petey, drink it first," she urged.

Her brother groggily straightened up and clutched the vial in his hands. He drank it in big gulps and passed the empty vial back to her. "Thanks, Hermione. You're the best," he murmured, the glassiness in his eyes already clearing up.

She stood up from her seat and went next to Remus. The werewolf murmured his thanks and drank it all up.

"Thanks, Whiskers," Sirius said when she passed him the potion.

"That's worse than 'kitten', honestly," she protested.

He merely lazily smirked and drank the Sobering Potion. Sirius then plopped down on the carpeted floor and snuggled beside Remus. The still slightly cranky boy pushed him away, his lips curled in displeasure.

Peter was already snoring on the couch, and both Remus and Sirius's eyes were already closing.

So.

There was only one left.

He was already waiting for her to come, his hazel eyes trained intently on her form as she straightened up and deliberately made her way towards him. James was tucked on one of the armchairs, a midnight blue comforter draped around his shoulders.

The unwitting feeling of his lips pressed against hers ignited in her heart once more and Hermione knew she was furiously blushing as she finally reached his side. With her close proximity, James now couldn't seem to _look_ at her. His high cheekbones were also dusted in red, and her eyes slid down to look at his slightly parted lips.

Her breath hitched and her hold on the potion vial tightened. She _knew_ the kiss was unintentional; James had drunk too much alcohol and the bonfire had been really, truly warm. The night sky had been beautiful and he really had done a sweet thing for her, so maybe emotions were heightened and some things were unexpectedly committed.

She did tell him there was no harm done. He was genuinely horrified with what he had done, a tad confused too, and had incessantly apologised, saying he hadn't really meant it. There was no point trying to make sense of whatever had happened between them.

"Err… here," she said, her voice cracking a little.

The corner of his lips lifted in thanks and he wordlessly grasped the vial away from her hands. "Bottoms up," he murmured, before tilting his head and gulping down the liquid. He passed her back the empty vial and properly looked at her this time. "Thanks, Whiskers."

Her nose involuntarily wrinkled at the nickname, prompting him to shake with silent laughter. His hazel eyes were alit with teasing and Hermione breathed out in silent relief, thankful that things hadn't become awkward between them after all.

"I hate that nickname," she grumbled under her breath.

A small smile grew on his face. "Too bad it's going to stick from now on," he replied.

Hermione expelled a soft sigh and rolled her eyes. "You should rest," she said. Her eyes travelled towards the slumbering boys and she frowned. "I don't think I'll be able to wake them up and force them to go to their own rooms."

"Let them rest here," he said, already shifting on the chair to find a comfortable position. He closed his eyes and leant his head against the headrest. "I think I'm also going to sleep here."

"All right," she said. "I – well, I'm going upstairs. Goodnight, Potter."

"James."

"What?"

He slowly opened his eyes, an indecipherable look on his face. "Please. Just call me James," he said, his lips lifting once more into a smile. "I honestly think you're about to hex me when you address me by my last name."

A soft laugh escaped from her lips. "Fine," she replied. "Goodnight, James."

His eyes glinted briefly before he completely closed them once more. "Goodnight, Hermione."

* * *

**August 15, 1976**

"It would really be lovely if you visited us again," Euphemia said, her warm hand grasping Hermione's. "After being surrounded by testosterone-fuelled boys for years, having a girl in this house was a breath of fresh air."

The brunette chuckled and fondly patted her hand. "That would be lovely, Mrs. Potter," she answered.

Her eyes shifted towards Peter, who was still playing around with his friends as they stumbled into the foyer. Fleamont wasn't too far behind, boisterously laughing over something Sirius had said, and teasingly musing up James's hair just to make it more dishevelled.

"Err, if you don't mind me saying," the younger witch started, "I really think you should avoid crowded places from now on. You and Mr. Potter."

James's father had heard her advice and exchanged a confused glance with his wife.

"I – I mean, I've read in the Daily Prophet that there was an outbreak of Dragon Pox, and _well_ , as we age, our immune system declines," she hurriedly explained. "But, of course, if you cannot avoid going into crowded places, maybe practice some distancing, especially from people who look sickly. It wouldn't hurt if you started stacking up on potions for curing dragon pox too. You can never be too careful, you know."

Fleamont's laugh reverberated all around the walls of the foyer. "No one has ever reminded us to keep healthy," he said, giving Hermione an indulgent smile. "But we'll keep your suggestion in mind. Thank you, Hermione."

Her cheeks coloured when the couple exchanged a glance once more, this one laced with amusement. She really couldn't help but warn them about dragon pox, of all the diseases, because she knew it would be their cause of death in the future. James would surely be devastated once he lost both of his parents from such a preventable disease. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt if Hermione warned them constantly about the importance of protecting themselves from dragon pox from now on…

"All set, Hermione?" Peter asked, grabbing onto her elbow.

She wordlessly nodded and smiled at the old couple once more. "Thank you for having us," she politely said. "I've had a really lovely time."

"Bye, Whiskers," Sirius teased.

Her eyes instantly narrowed as they landed on the cheeky boy. "My name's 'Hermione'," she grounded out.

"Of course," he merely said with a brilliant smile.

"See you in September, yeah?" Remus said, his packed belongings also sitting on the floor beside him. "Relax for the remaining days, Hermione, seriously. You'll have plenty of time to study for your OWLs once school starts."

She sheepishly smiled, knowing she wouldn't listen to his advice. Remus thought so too because he rolled his eyes in the end.

"Goodbye," James quipped. "See you."

Hermione hesitantly looked at the bespectacled wizard, who looked mildly amused as he stared back at her. Yesterday's events were blessedly forgotten – or not broached, really, because Hermione _surely_ couldn't forget it. James treated her exactly as how he had always treated her, and she decided she shouldn't act all nervous every time she interacted with him.

"See you," she echoed, smiling slightly when his lips twitched into a small smile.

"Goodbye!" Peter exclaimed, more enthusiastically than his cautious sister.

Peter urged her to go first and she nodded. After flashing them another smile in goodbye, Hermione walked towards the ornate fireplace and grasped a pinch of Floo powder from the small pouch. She threw it into the fireplace and waited until it roared emerald green.

As Hermione stepped inside and exclaimed her address, the last thing she saw was James's bright, hazel eyes, intently staring at her in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Please listen to Hermione and practice social distancing ahahaha.
> 
> Soo… yeah hahaha. Next chapter concludes Hermione's eventful summer before her fifth year :) Thank you again for still reading this ridiculous story. It really means a lot to me huhu. I love you all!
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr! (kimmy-writes)


	15. chapter fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy smokes you guys! My inbox was freaking out with your comments/reviews. Thank you so much for your kind words. It really means a lot to me to know that you're still reading this fic and enjoying it huhu.

* * *

**xiv.**

_**no doubt in my mind where you belong** _

(Make You Feel My Love by Sleeping at Last)

* * *

**August 20, 1976**

"Oh, Hermione, a letter arrived for you this morning."

The brunette quizzically looked at her mother, who was busy bustling around the kitchen to prepare for their supper that night. She met Peter's eyes, who merely shrugged and then slipped inside his bedroom.

Both she and Peter had just come back from Diagon Alley after shopping for their new books and school supplies. Peter had to order new robes because he'd grown taller yet again - his previous school robes were already hanging in the middle of his shins. It was mighty unfair how boys his age shot up like bamboo; even his friends were already towering over her, when Hermione's growth spurt seemed to be taking a really long time. It unnerved her a bit, because she and Harry were almost always the same height every time they come back for the next school-year. Ron was just a delightful anomaly in their group, all arms and legs and basically towering over everyone in school.

"Whose it from?" Hermione asked, absentmindedly depositing her new things on top of the table and glancing at the letter.

"I didn't really read the name," Anya said, "but I think it's from one of your friends."

Worry instantly bloomed in the pit of her stomach. Lily rarely wrote to her during the summer because her Muggle family restricted her owl post. They were living in a Muggle neighbourhood after all. Severus was never much of a writer, opting to dump everything that had happened to him during the break, once they met up on September 1st.

Deciding to quell her curiosity, she grabbed onto the letter and recognised Lily's neat handwriting. She slowly flipped the parchment open, her eyes quickly roving through the letter. By the time she was finished, her face was very pale.

"Did something happen to your friends, sweetheart?" Anya said, noticing her daughter's face.

"It's Sev," she murmured. "His mother died."

* * *

**August 21, 1976**

Hermione fidgeted with the itchy collar of the black robes she was wearing. She never really had anything formal and black for a wizarding funeral. The dress she had worn during her father's funeral was too small for her already.

So, Anya rummaged through her cabinet and pulled out the dress Hermione was currently wearing. It was something her mother used to own when she was a teenager, and the way Anya's eyes appreciatively glittered when she went down and showed her the dress brought Hermione some discomfort. It was a stuffy dress, admittedly elegant though and screamed Pureblood aristocracy, but it was _itchy_ and Hermione was uncomfortable wearing it.

"Hermione, stay still, Merlin," Anya tutted, reaching forward to brush some of her hair away and to clip it neatly to keep from falling over her eyes.

Anya held both of Hermione's hands and fondly smiled, beholding her daughter with sparkling eyes. "I'd forgotten why I wanted a daughter in the first place," she said with a chuckle. "Your father only wanted one child, and don't get me wrong, I love Peter more than the stars above, but I always imagined myself taking care of a daughter too."

"Mum," Hermione complained. "I'm attending a _funeral_ , not some bloody fashion show."

"Language," she clucked, and smoothed down her dress robes. She then looped her arm around Hermione's and sadly smiled. "Send Severus my love. I'm sorry for his loss."

The brunette merely nodded. She wasn't entirely sure how Severus felt today. Lily's letter had been brief, telling her about their best friend's mother's passing and an invitation to attend her funeral. Severus never sent a letter telling her about his mother's passing, which admittedly hurt her quite a bit because they were still best friends. But she brushed it off, accepting that Sev and Lily's friendship was always different than their friendship with her. Besides, they lived near each other so she didn't doubt that Lily had heard about his mother's passing, even if Severus had never explicitly told her.

"I'll side-along apparate you," Anya offered, cutting through her worried thoughts.

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. "You will?" she gasped.

Her mother looked at her with a bemused smile. "Darling, I think sometimes you and your brother forget that I'm a certified witch too," she said. Hermione sheepishly smiled in apology, but Anya only laughed. "Come now."

Hermione readied herself as she felt the familiar squeeze of apparition in her belly button. They materialised almost immediately under a busted streetlamp. Anya expelled a soft gasp upon seeing the poor state of the neighbourhood. Rows and rows of identical, dilapidated brick houses lined the whole street. Hermione noted that the streetlamp they were standing under wasn't the only one with a broken bulb.

It was a silent neighbourhood, save from the ripples of water coming from a small, dirty lake not too far ahead. Hermione spied an ominous building with a huge chimney, which didn't spout any smoke.

She was grateful for her dress robes, for the street was thick with a chilly fog. Hermione could imagine Severus growing up in such a dreadful neighbourhood, but _Lily_ – who was so full of life and warmth – would seem terribly out-of-place on a street like this.

"Owl me if you need to get home, love," her mother murmured and brushed a kiss on top of her bushy hair.

Hermione whispered her goodbye and Anya was gone once more.

The brunette suspiciously eyed a post with the street name on it, standing erect beside a streetlamp - the blurred words _Spinner's End_ written in a stiff font. As she passed through the empty alley, Hermione had newfound appreciation for her warm neighbourhood. Although they were isolated by those in their neighbourhood due to their nature, at least the street was bright and liveable.

Lily had specifically told her that Snape's house would be distinct from the others, because its gates were made from wrought iron, giving it an image of a prison cell.

' _He didn't exactly have a happy childhood,'_ Lily added after showing Hermione the depressing simile.

Lily was right, after all, for Severus's house was the only one that projected an image of a prison. The wrought iron gates were rusting from time and nature. Some weeds were wrapped around the metal bars, prompting Hermione to sigh with a heavy heart.

The house itself didn't look liveable, each nook and cranny whispering memories of neglect and an unhappy childhood. Severus had commented once that Hogwarts felt like home more than his house had ever done, and now Hermione understood clearly what he meant.

Swallowing down the sympathy she knew Severus would scoff at, Hermione pushed the iron gates open. It gave a loud creak that made her flinch. She then trudged through a pathway made of uneven stones until she stood in front of an unimposing, simple wooden door.

Hermione tentatively knocked thrice and waited. She heard heavy footsteps from the other side before it swung open, revealing her Slytherin best friend. Severus looked worse than the last time she'd seen him, with dark bags under his eyes and sallower skin. His hair was surprisingly clean today, even parted neatly with the wavy end of his hair tucked behind his ears.

Her eyes watered a bit as she threw her arms around him. "I'm sorry, Sev," she whispered against his ear.

Severus sighed and lightly pulled her away from him. "You shouldn't have come," he darkly muttered under his breath. "I didn't invite you to come."

"She _should_ have come," Lily's voice drifted from behind. Hermione craned her head above Sev's shoulder and saw her other best friend. Lily was wearing a simple black Muggle dress, her red hair held away from her face in a low bun. Her emerald eyes were dimmer today and the smile she gave Hermione was a tad too sad. "Hello, Hermione."

"You look like a proper Pureblood," Severus suddenly commented, glancing down at her uncomfortable dress robes.

Hermione blushed and fidgeted with her collar once more. "It used to be my Mum's," she explained, noting the teasing glint in Lily's eyes. "Back when she was a proper _Selwyn_."

Lily suddenly leant forwards and slapped the back of Sev's head. "Let Hermione inside, you berk," she snapped. He craned his neck and glared at the redhead, but stepped aside and let the brunette in.

She took that time to survey his home. The walls were lined with huge bookshelves brimming with different genres of books. There was a dimly lit lamp hanging from the ceiling, illuminating a small sitting room with few, tattered pieces of furniture scattered around.

"It isn't much," Severus said slowly, his high cheekbones turning pink under her rapt observation. "But it's home."

"Hogwarts is your home," Hermione said before she could stop herself. Her eyes widened in mortification and immediately glanced at him. "I'm sorry. That wasn't very polite."

A hollow laugh escaped from Sev's lips. "You aren't entirely wrong, Pettigrew," he murmured, a dark shadow full of bad memories clouding his face. Hermione tried her hardest to stamp down the sympathy, but it was increasingly getting difficult now that she was in his house, which had no semblance of love hidden in the corners. She instinctively reached for his hand and gave it a tiny squeeze.

They sat on the only couch in the room, cramped tightly together because Severus had grown ridiculously tall over the break too. He offered them tea, which the girls accepted politely, and they all basked in the silence as they let their thoughts run away from them.

"What time will the funeral be?" Hermione asked, breaking the silence.

"In an hour or so," he clipped.

"Will there be visitors?" Lily softly asked, peering hesitantly at the brooding wizard sandwiched between them.

Severus frowned and tiredly rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'm estranged with my father's family," he said with a casual shrug. "I did send them the news, but they never really bothered to visit us when both of them were still alive. As for my mother's family…" He trailed off for a bit, clenching his jaw with raw tension. "Let us just say my mother had the same fate as your mother."

"Purebloods really do love disowning their family members," Lily said with an eye roll.

Hermione laughed. "Tell me about it," she said, once again absentmindedly scratching her itchy collarbone. "Imagine if I was raised like a proper Pureblood witch, though."

Mock horror appeared on Severus' place. " _Merlin_ , that would be a disaster," he muttered.

She lightly swatted his arm. "Berk," she growled, but secretly, she was relieved that he was still able to be snarky like his usual self.

**-ooo-**

Severus was surprised that some of their neighbours had dropped by to pay their respects. "My mother was not exactly a pleasant woman," he whispered under his breath as he pasted a fake smile on his face and thanked the well-wishers.

There were only a few, however, and by the time the last soil was placed on top of her buried coffin, it was only Lily, Severus and Hermione who were left behind. The two witches steadfastly held Severus's hands. Normally, he would have scoffed at their ridiculous show of affection, but Hermione knew he needed comfort that both she and Lily could freely give.

There was no love lost between him and his mother, that was for sure. Lily had hinted before that when she and Sev had met up over the summer to hang out, she'd notice weird bruises on his wrists and arms. Hermione was instantly reminded of her abusive father, and the bruises he forcefully decorated on her mother's skin.

"Sev," Lily gasped, tightly clutching onto his arm.

Hermione glanced at Lily, who had gone paler as her green eyes stared somewhere near the direction of Sev's house. The brunette curiously turned around and followed Lily's line of vision. A group of three, black-clad people came striding towards the tombstone. Their attire almost rivalled Hermione's in terms of stuffiness and they held their heads high like everybody was beneath them. The sullen look Severus always wore was mirrored on the eldest of the group, her stance commanding attention that almost seemed to follow powerful, aloof Purebloods in their wake.

Severus had gone very still as they finally reached the trio. They were undoubtedly wizards and witches, the discomfort on their faces upon being surrounded by Muggles evident. The eldest matriarch disdainfully glanced at the frozen wizard.

"Severus," she silkily greeted, her lip curling with thinly veiled disgust. "It's been a while."

"More like thirteen years," the young wizard drawled, his back snapping ramrod straight and his chin lifting to match her glare.

"I see," she scoffed. "Still as insolent as ever."

His hands curled into tight fists. "Why are you here, _Mistress Prince_?" he spat his address towards her like he was drinking poison.

The witch – Mistress Prince – lightly glared at him. "It came to my knowledge that Eileen has passed away," she said coldly, her black eyes briefly flicking towards the gravestone over his shoulder. Hermione frowned at the sudden display of emotion, of raw anguish and guilt and sadness, that flashed in the older witch's eyes. But it was gone once she had slid her gaze back towards Severus. "We came to pay our respects."

"I thought," he drawled, a nasty sneer now growing on his face, "that _she_ wasn't family of yours. I remember clearly how my mother begged to be recognised as a Prince once more, because her _bastard_ husband left her and their son almost close to poverty. And I _remember_ , how _you_ , Mistress Prince, spat on her face and said that you do not have a daughter."

The silent wizard behind Mistress Prince shot forward and bared his teeth. "Show your respects, Blood-Traitor," he hissed.

Hermione's eyes almost popped out of their sockets. Severus's jaw tensed at the slur, but he resolutely held their gazes, utter loathing colouring his already dark eyes.

"Forgive me," he snarled sarcastically, "for I've never known how to properly show respect, remember? You looked at me for the first time, told me I would grow up to be like my father – insolent, bastardly, _impertinent_ – because his blood courses through my veins and it disgusts you" – he took a deep, shuttering breath – "it _disgusts_ you so much how his filthy Muggle blood mingles with your beloved pure blood."

Mistress Prince's face had gone pale, but Severus wasn't done. "You called me an _abomination_ ," he bitterly spat. "You told me I should never have been born. You told me that if you could, you'd do whatever it takes to wipe me off that pretty, family tapestry of yours. You told m—"

His words were halted when the furious witch suddenly raised her hand and slapped him sharply across his pallid face. The force was so great, Severus accidentally bit his bottom lip and now had pearls of blood – _red_ blood – dripping down his chin.

"You have no _right_ ," Mistress Prince shrieked, her eyes blazing furiously in unsuppressed rage. "You will grow up just like him. Just like your father who was worthless and irresponsible, a person beneath us in all ways. He tricked your mother into running away with him and it was because of him that you are penniless. Looking at you right now disgusts me because you look like him, _so_ much like him and every day, as you look in the mirror, you'll realise that you were as worthless and irresponsible, bound to fail at everything and die like a penniless fool. _Just like your father_."

Severus was breathing hard, his eyes shining bright with a myriad of emotions Hermione couldn't decipher. The blood from his lips still flowed, undoubtedly exacerbated by his constant grinding.

And then… and then Lily, with all of her green-eyed, red-haired glory, slid in between the older witch and her furious best friend. She stood tall and proud, her green eyes sparkling with so much energy even Hermione could feel it with just a touch of her hand.

"Severus is not _worthless_ ," she thundered, her infamous temper making an appearance. "He is nothing like his father. He is intelligent and responsible and one day, _one day,_ the whole world will hail him as the greatest Potions Master we have ever seen. Not even _you_ can then deny how successful he will be, and you will spend your dying days full of regret, for not making amends, for neglecting him all these years. Severus will prove that he didn't need you at all, that he would never need you at all. Severus will prove to you that he has everything he needs – _friends_ that will stand beside him, die _for_ him, who believe he is worthy of something."

Hermione gaped at Lily, flummoxed by the words formed by her sharp tongue. Mistress Prince, and her other two companions, looked just as gobsmacked by the Muggle-born's words as the young witch was.

But Severus had the most amazing reaction to their fiery best friend. She didn't realise someone could feel so many things in such a short span of time, but Severus proved her wrong. The shock was brief, before it melted into indignation, perhaps embarrassment by the fact that he was being defended. Then the indignation morphed into mild amusement, watching as the colour drained from Mistress Prince's face until she was stark white and mortified. The amusement then changed into deep respect, for a witch who could ramble ferocious words to a supposedly respectable Pureblood.

And lastly, all of these emotions merged together until there was love, _pure love_ , written clearly in Severus's eyes. If Lily could only turn around, if Lily could only stop her tirade and look at Severus, she'd realise how much he loved her after all these years.

Hermione's eyes watered at the raw vulnerability in his eyes and was unable to blink the tears back when Lily's eyes were also shining, steadfastly defending her best friend to this complete stranger that never even took an effort to truly know Severus.

"I think it is time for you to go, Mistress Prince," Lily harshly spat, a single tear sliding down from her bright, green eyes. "You've overstayed your welcome."

"How – how _dare_ you?" the wizard floundered, his face turning purple as he stepped forward and tried to smack her face. Severus was suddenly in front, his wand pointed threateningly under the man's chin.

"Leave," he boomed, his voice cracking with so much emotion. "Leave. _Now_."

Mistress Prince's eyes narrowed in abject disgust. She finally turned on her heel and stomped away, her two companions quickly matching her pace.

They stood frozen, waiting for them to disappear, and once they had apparated with a pop, Lily threw her arms around Severus and hugged him fiercely.

"You are not worthless, Severus Snape," she vehemently declared even when tears steadily slid down her face. "You will not become worthless. I will make sure of it!"

And Lily was sobbing loudly against his shoulders, pulling him close like she needed the comfort more than he did. Hermione shakily smiled at her endearing best friend, watching as Severus melted against Lily's hug and wound his arms around her. She had never seen him wear that expression before, an expression that softened the hardness on his face, brightened even his black eyes, and she knew that Severus would only reserve that expression for Lily.

 _Only_ Lily.

**-ooo-**

"We really should change the colour of the wallpaper, Sev," Lily admonished, her nose wrinkling as she surveyed the peeling decorations on the wall. "It's depressing."

"Thanks, Lils, I never really noticed it before," he snarled sarcastically.

Hermione sighed and smiled at her best friends in amusement, wondering how they could so easily slide back into their normal, bickering selves.

After composing themselves, Hermione suggested they should go back to Sev's house and get some rest. Lily by then had a newfound vigour as she tore through the house, pointing numerous things that should be discarded, removed, or changed. It was like she was trying to flip the house over, to strip away all of the bad memories Severus had encountered in every corner, and to make it as bright and lively as she was.

And Severus, despite the constant rolling of his eyes or the sarcastic quips escaping from his lips, appreciated what they were trying to do. He quirked an eyebrow when Hermione casually lit his uncomfortable chair on fire, promising to send over a lovely spare couch stored in their attic back home. It was still quite comfortable and cozy, and the only reason why they stashed it away was because it didn't match Anya's new decorations at home. Lily followed Hermione's lead and had been ransacking Severus' house, _Evanesco_ -ing things that wrinkled her nose, until all that was left were the handsome towering bookshelves, his coffee table, and an armchair that was quite worn, but squashy enough to sit on.

This happened all afternoon and by the time they were done, the trio were spent. Severus transfigured the comfortable armchair into a divan, large enough to accommodate them all and flicked his wrist towards the fireplace to start a fire.

Lily, the chatterbox, went on and on about her new misadventures with Petunia and her new fiancé – previously her boyfriend – Vernon Dursley. Severus sneered and laughed at the right moments, offering insights when Lily demanded him to do so, and disagreeing with things he didn't deem agreeable.

Hermione was silent most of the time. Severus pointed out that she wasn't herself today as she wasn't spouting ridiculous facts that no one wanted to hear, but she merely laughed and contentedly watched as her best friends interacted as they always had.

"Maybe we should get some takeaway," Hermione quipped when Lily voiced out how hungry she was.

"Shouldn't you be going home now?" Sev grumbled. He was now sprawled on the couch, his head comfortably lying on top of Lily's lap. The redhead was absentmindedly running her fingers through his hair, her fingernails scraping through his scalp, making him hum appreciatively.

The brunette stared at the small, oval window near the door and noted that it was already sunset. "I can still spare a few more hours," she said with a shrug. "I finished all my homework anyway and I'm already half-packed for Hogwarts." Her blue eyes landed on the redhead. "Lils?"

"I can still stay for a bit," she said with a casual shrug. "Oh! I know a decent Vietnamese place near here. They sell a mean _pho_. We should try it tonight."

"Sounds good to me," Hermione said. When she questioningly looked at Severus, the raven-haired boy merely shrugged.

"We'll be back soon," Lily promised. Severus reluctantly lifted his head up to let Lily stand. The redhead instantly hooked arms with Hermione and uncertainly looked at the Slytherin. "You'll be all right?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "Blimey, Evans, what am I? Five?" he spat.

Lily expelled a humongous sigh and pulled Hermione away, darkly muttering under her breath that worrying for an impossible wizard was a huge waste of time.

Their journey towards the restaurant and consequent buying of food, did not take too long. When Lily and Hermione announced they were back, they weren't able to hear Sev's gruff greeting.

They entered through the door and saw that Severus was already fast asleep. He was using his arm as a pillow and he looked obviously uncomfortable. His eyebrows were knitted at the middle, his face twisted in discomfort, and he was murmuring words that didn't make sense.

"It has been a tiring day," Hermione whispered, fondly staring down at the Slytherin.

Lily wordlessly placed the paper bag on the coffee table and strode towards the divan. She daintily shifted Severus's head so that it could rest on her lap. She then fixed his blanket, tucked the exhausted wizard underneath, and incessantly fussed with the edges until she was sure it covered every part of him.

There were tears in Lily's eyes once more when she softly rubbed a finger between his knitted eyebrows until he relaxed and grew silent. One lone tear slid down from her eyes and landed on his hair, buried until it mingled with the strands.

"Hermione," she softly croaked, lifting her head to connect her shining eyes with the brunette. "Sev needs us now more than ever. Do you understand?"

"Of course, Lily," Hermione said in a heartbeat, tears already forming in the corner of her eyes.

The redhead gave her a shaky smile and looked down at the sleeping wizard once more. Severus looked peaceful this time, as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders and he could finally, _finally_ be himself.

Hermione's blue eyes travelled back to Lily's face and she felt her throat run dry. She could recognise that gaze in an instant, because it was what Severus always wore when he was looking at an oblivious Lily. Hermione's heart clenched at the look, because she now understood that Sev's feelings might not be one-sided after all.

She was torn whether to be happy or horrified at that conclusion. She loved her best friends more than anything in this world – except for her mother and brother, of course – and she wanted them to be happy. Really, truly happy. Something that neither Ron nor Harry were able to achieve in her past life. But if it meant they were to be happy with _each other_ … well, what was Hermione supposed to do? Lily's eyes belonged to Harry Potter, but if Severus got in the way…

' _No,_ ' a voice whispered inside her head. _'Not today, Hermione.'_

She shouldn't worry about such things for now, because Severus's mother had died and he needed a friend. And that was what Hermione would be to him today.

"Severus had a really terrible childhood, Hermione," she continued, sniffing daintily as she swiped the tears from her eyes. "Petunia was a monster, but Sev's parents… they were different, _entirely_ different. I don't know how he was able to survive all these years."

But Hermione knew. She knew that if he hadn't have stumbled upon a small, inquisitive redhead, with eyes as green as the trees surrounding him, he wouldn't have been able to push through all the hardships he'd been through.

"You've really been beside him ever since, haven't you?" Hermione whispered. "After everything he's been through… after everything he _will_ go through, you still stay beside him."

Lily's eyes sparkled with such resolution it almost knocked the breath out of Hermione. "Always" she said. The redhead gazed tenderly over Sev's sleeping face once more and brushed an errant strand of hair away from his peaceful face. "Always."

**-ooo-**

It had been an emotionally draining day, which was why Hermione had no qualms wrapping her arms around Anya when she spotted her waiting at the apparition point.

"How is Severus?" Anya asked, fondly brushing some stray tears away from her daughter's eyes.

"He's managing," she replied with a soft sniff. Hermione tightened her grip around her mother's waist. "He will be okay, I'm sure. He has Lily after all."

"And you," Anya added.

Hermione merely smiled, the expression on her face a tad forlorn. She knew Severus appreciated her, considered her as a close friend, and had sought for her company often. But she knew, deep inside, that even if she wasn't there to stay beside him, Lily was enough.

Lily in his eyes, was colossal - his everything and more - and if the world crashed and burned down around them, just as long as she was there, holding his hand, then Severus knew nothing else would matter.

Lily was enough.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of Hermione's eventful summer! Terribly sorry for the lack of Jamione in this chapter but you see, I did say this will be a slow burn-y romance. There will be more interactions between them in the future, I promise, but expect to be very frustrated hehe.
> 
> Also, I love Lily so much and I want to write about her more. And, I tried to research about Sev's mother but there wasn't enough background info regarding Eileen Prince, so I just made this up ahaha.
> 
> So, anyway, next chapter will be set in Hermione's fifth year already! It'll consist of 4 chapters so do watch out for my next update. That's it for now!
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr! (kimmy-writes) I made character moodboards because 1) I'm bored, 2) for my sanity's sake whilst writing this monstrous fic and studying Surgery at the same time lmao.


	16. chapter fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oho, another update! I've decided to post another chapter because I'm writing really sad scenes for this story, which required listening to sad songs and unleashing sad feelings so now I'm really sad. Funnily, this ridiculous story is the only thing that can bring me instant joy so yes, another update!

* * *

**xv.**

_**i love you means you're never, ever, ever getting rid of me** _

(Never Ever Getting Rid of Me by Sara Bareilles)

* * *

**September 9, 1976**

Hermione's eyes widened when Lily and Severus piled heaps and heaps of parchment at her feet.

"Well, you did say you'd like to have our OWLs notes," Lily said, her green eyes glinting in amusement. "So, here they are."

"I didn't think it would be this… _towering_ ," the brunette said, shifting her legs on the green grass to make more room for her best friends' notes.

"Please, Hermione," Severus scoffed, " _we_ took our studies seriously last year, compared to the four Gryffindor buffoons you started to babysit." His lips curled in disgust at the mere thought of the Marauders. "I still can't believe you managed to last hanging out with those imbeciles. Didn't your brain shrivel up from engaging with inane conversations with such fools?"

Hermione snorted. "Remus's humongous brain makes up for it," she joked, followed by a laugh. "And they're not imbeciles. They managed to get decent OWL grades that could still qualify them to become Aurors in the future."

"Did they get more than five 'O's?" Severus asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Well, no—"

"End of discussion," the Slytherin said as he snootily lifted his pointy nose.

Hermione rolled her eyes and started to browse through their notes. She scooted over a bit to give more room for Lily, who sprawled on the grass across from Hermione and started to take out some of her school materials. "Not everybody's a genius like you, Severus Snape," Hermione snapped back. "Besides, Remus got nine 'O's! That's as many as Lily's. _You_ got eight."

Lily snickered when Sev's eyes narrowed in retaliation.

"But they really did well on their OWLs," Hermione quickly added. "None of them got a failing grade. Even my brother!"

"And it's all thanks to you," Lily teased.

The Ravenclaw's cheeks reddened. "I just forced them to focus," she interjected. "They did most of the hard work, really."

"Humility doesn't suit you, Pettigrew," Severus said, pushing Lily further towards Hermione so that he could sit on the patch of grass beside her.

"Berk," Hermione hissed, grasping a few of their parchments to swat him on the arm.

Severus darkly glared, muttering 'violence' and 'annoying witches' under his breath. In spite of his sour mood, Hermione smiled, happy that at least Severus was acting normal. She had worried greatly over the remaining days of summer about what would happen to him after his mother's death. Hermione had exchanged letters with Lily for an update on their best friend, because Sev always responded curtly to her letters. Lily assured Hermione that Severus was doing well, that he had spent the last few days of summer making his home more liveable.

"Are you making your own study schedule again this year?" Lily asked incredulously, grasping onto the abandoned parchment Hermione had been working on before they had arrived.

"It's _my_ OWLs year," she pointed out. "I can't afford to slack off."

"Blimey, Hermione, this is more rigid than the ones you made for us last year!" Lily exclaimed. Severus quickly grasped the parchment from her hands to scan it with his own eyes.

Hermione absentmindedly scratched her cheek and snatched her unfinished schedule away from the Slytherin's hands. "I can't afford to slack off now," she repeated with more emphasis. "Speaking of which, _you_ can't afford to slack off now. You might not have any major exams this year, but you will have your _NEWTs_ next year."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear you say anything at all," Severus drawled, closing his eyes and calmly leaning his head on the oak tree behind him.

"NEWTs are more important!" Hermione cried.

Lily sighed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Shh, Hermione, let us have our well-deserved rest," the redhead said, grinning widely at the younger witch's glare. "But tell you what? I'm going to study with you this year as often as possible, because I know you're going to study yourself sick and you need someone to take care of you."

"I can take care of myself," she pointed out with a petulant frown.

"Now, _I'm_ going to pretend you never said that because you and I both know you go bonkers over studying, resorting to _unhealthy_ practices that any sane human shouldn't do," Lily said with a sigh. She placed her chin on top of Hermione's shoulder and intently looked at her. "Seriously, though, you should take it easy this year, Hermione. We've taken the OWLs and I can vouch that it isn't too hard, contrary to popular belief. I even think you have enough stock knowledge to get you an 'O' in all of your exams as you are now."

Hermione knew that too, because she'd taken these exams once before. She highly doubted the coverage of the exams had changed. But, she couldn't afford to slack off now. Loathe as she was to admit it, but she had been mighty embarrassed with her lone 'E' in her last OWLs. She vowed to herself that since she had a second chance this time, she'd pass her Defence Against the Dark Arts with flying colours.

"I'll be fine," Hermione lamely replied.

"Pettigrew, please," Severus sighed. "If you're going to spout more lies, I think it's best if you just keep quiet."

Lily grinned at the sourpuss, then apologetically smiled at Hermione. "He's right," she said, chuckling lightly at Hermione's annoyed scowl. "You should— _SHITE_!"

The redhead tried to make herself as small as possible, even using Hermione as a human shield. The brunette, startled by Lily's sudden change of attitude, craned her neck over her shoulder and looked at her best friend in confusion. "What's wrong, Lils?" she asked, worried.

"Please tell me Potter and his stupid posse aren't coming towards us," Lily begged, hope tinged in the tone of her voice.

Hermione's head swivelled around, her eyes scanning the throngs of students in search of the Marauders. It wasn't too hard to spot them, with James and his glinting hazel eyes leading the whole group. They all caught Hermione staring and Sirius sent her a wicked wink.

The brunette frowned and looked away.

"Well," she slowly started, "you said if I'm just going to spout more lies, I should just keep quiet."

Lily groaned. "I can't believe he's still being _so_ persistent," the redhead complained. "Not even a week has passed since the school-year began, but he's already been so obnoxious."

Hermione was brought back to their Welcoming Feast - after all the first years had been Sorted, James had spectacularly conspired with the Hogwarts house-elves to pile all of Lily's favourite meals for her to devour on the table in front of her. Lily was red in the face, screaming her disgust at the outrageous boy, and had no choice but to accept all the meals prepared by the sweet, _sweet_ house-elves, lest they realised she wasn't pleased with their work and started banging their heads in shame. Hermione's nose had crunched at the thought of using poor house-elves for his extravagant wooing, and whole-heartedly agreed when Professor McGonagall bestowed a week of detention for James.

James was growing persistent, that much she deduced. Usually, it was obvious when he was brewing some great wooing, but this time, he did it _unexpectedly_. Lily was always caught off guard and frustrated in the end. It was mighty obvious that the Gryffindor redhead was starting to grow uncomfortable with all of James's advances. Hermione herself couldn't deny that James's behaviour was bordering inappropriate.

She made a mental note to reprimand him then, because _really_ , she somehow fancied herself into thinking that they were already friends – closer than the previous years – and he might listen to her.

But then, she'd remember the kiss and she'd get flustered.

It was a huge relief that James didn't seem bothered by it at all, continuing to act like the utter toerag he was. And Hermione was fine with that because at least she didn't have to tiptoe around him, avoiding him at all costs, and thereby making everybody suspicious. But it frustrated her immensely how her body reacted every time he was near. Her cheeks flushed red, and her eyes always magnetised towards him, no matter the distance between them.

It was mortifying too because she knew what was happening to her. She'd felt this briefly with Viktor, and then for years with _Ron_ and it was confusing and terrifying at the same time because this was _James Potter_. He was Harry's dad, Lily's future husband, and Peter's best friend. He should only be a friend to her, nothing _more_ , because then it would be disastrous and Hermione had been trying so hard over the years to avoid any disasters.

She blamed this unwarranted attraction purely on adolescent hormones. She told herself countless times he looked exactly like Harry, and that was enough to curb whatever physical admiration she had for the bespectacled wizard. All she felt for Harry was purely platonic, a deep friendship forged by a war and numerous adventures.

But the thing was James was _not_ Harry. He was far from being like Harry with those ridiculously mesmerising hazel eyes, or that lopsided smile that made her insides clench, or that air of confidence that always followed him wherever he went.

And he was a bully! Hermione hated bullies, cursed them endlessly for making her life a living hell during her days as Hermione Granger. So it didn't make sense, _not at all_ , why looking at James Potter now evoked a certain gooey feeling in the pit of her stomach that she didn't like at all.

' _No, no, fuck no,'_ she told herself again, firmly this time. There was no time for these silly feelings – emotions she knew would only produce disastrous consequences for the future. She was in fifth year now, so she had OWLs to focus on. Hermione just had to bury herself in studying and this stupid crush for James would soon subside. It happened with Viktor. It _almost_ happened with Ron, but that wasn't the point. The point was it would happen with James too, she was sure.

"I'm going to scat," Lily hurriedly said, shouldering her strap and jumping up. "Bye, Hermione!"

The redhead then pulled Severus onto his feet and dragged him with her. The Slytherin loudly protested at why he had to leave too, but glared darkly at the Marauders when they zoomed past them.

"Evans! Hey!" James called, a put-out frown on his face. "Where are you going?"

But Lily and Severus were already stomping into the castle, leaving the frustrated bespectacled boy alone.

"All right, Whiskers?" Sirius hollered, as he now tugged James towards the brunette.

"Whoa, what are these?" Peter asked, leaning towards the pile of notes that reached almost to his hip.

Hermione smiled in greeting and shifted aside to let her brother sit down beside her. Remus occupied Severus's place and silently snatched a parchment off the towering pile. "Lily and Severus gave me their OWLs notes," she explained.

"I can lend you my notes, too," Remus offhandedly offered. "They're still in the dormitories."

"That would be lovely, Remus, thank you," Hermione said with a smile.

"You take notes?" Sirius asked, wrinkling his nose.

James snorted and shoved his shoulder. "Of course he takes notes," he pointed out. "Have you forgotten we have a swot as a best friend?"

Remus merely sighed and rolled his eyes, not even bothering to give a comment. Hermione smiled in sympathy and rummaged inside her pocket, pulling out a half-eaten chocolate bar from her robes. "Here," she offered, leaning over Peter to look at the exhausted werewolf. "Just to trigger some endorphins."

"Endor-what?" Sirius asked, grabbing onto the chocolate bar and taking a bite.

The werewolf glowered and snatched the candy bar for himself. "I thought chocolates were poisonous to dogs like you, Black?" he snarled, hugging the chocolate to himself like it was a treasure.

"I'm not exactly a dog, Cranky Remus," the shaggy-haired Gryffindor reminded. "If I die, then who would you insult during your crankiest moods?"

Remus sighed once more and sourly took a bite from the chocolate.

"You always carry around chocolate with you?" James asked, addressing Hermione for the first time.

She willed her cheeks not to flare up as she casually glanced at the curious wizard. "Habit," she vaguely said. Like her habit of bringing a Sobering Potion anywhere she went, Hermione knew Harry loved chocolates too. If he'd been too despondent, she found out that chocolate may lift his spirits a bit. Of course, these sweets had been a luxury during their run, and Hermione now made it a point to always purchase some and carry in her robes, especially because there was someone – namely, _Remus_ – who needed some boost of happiness. "Besides, someone needs to take care of Remus."

"I don't need to be taken care of," the werewolf protested. His cheeks, however were painted red, clearly embarrassed by Hermione's words.

Something glinted in James's hazel eyes that made her tear her gaze away from him. "Of course you do, Moony," she teased, leaning across Peter once more to pat Remus on his shoulder.

Sirius then snatched her half-finished schedule and scanned it with a sneer. "Why are you even bothering to study for your OWLs this year?" he asked in disbelief. "You practically studied the coverage already because you studied with us last year!"

"I cannot afford to slack off," she repeated for the umpteenth time, lifting her chin in defiance.

"Hermione," Peter drawled, a warning glint in his eyes, "don't tire yourself too much. Or I'll be forced to owl Mum! I won't be surprised if she sends over a Howler to you, yammering about the importance of taking breaks."

"As if Mum can stop me," Hermione said with a laugh. She yelped when Peter suddenly pinched her side. "Peter!"

"Stubborn witch," he grumbled, wrapping an arm over Hermione's shoulders. "But _seriously_ , Herms, don't study too hard."

Hermione expelled a humongous sigh. "I'll try," she said, the corner of her lips twitching when he frowned. "I'm sure if I said 'I will', you wouldn't even believe me."

"Clever kitten," Sirius pointed out with a smirk.

" _Fine_ ," Peter said with a soft laugh. "That's enough, I guess."

Hermione then pierced the four with a glare. "I'm going to be really busy this year but that doesn't mean you can neglect your studies," she said. "NEWTs are coming and you have to be prepared."

Their collective groans made her smile. "Iron fist, remember?" she teasingly reminded. "Anyway, don't you have to go to class now?" She briefly glanced at her wristwatch and noted that lunch break was over.

"And you don't?" James asked.

She looked at Sirius like he was the one who had asked her the question. "I have free time for the rest of the afternoon," she said.

"Free time to do _what_?" he insisted.

"To study, of course," she answered with a frown.

"Of course."

There was something in the tone of his voice that made her glance at him. James's hazel eyes were impossibly glinting and it made her a tad dizzy. The small, lopsided smile on his face wasn't helping her suddenly frazzled mind at all, honestly.

"So, yes," she briefly said, immediately lifting her half-finished schedule to hide her pink face behind. "You had all better go."

Peter gave her a hug and they all bid her a chorus of 'goodbyes'. Hermione slowly lowered her parchment and looked at their retreating backs, her gaze once again latching onto James's back as he wildly laughed over something Sirius had said.

' _Bugger,'_ she sourly thought, catching herself. _'This will be harder than I thought.'_

* * *

**September 10, 1976**

"May I join you?"

She lifted her large eyes and looked at the smirking Regulus Black. She stared a tad bit, surprised that he himself had grown taller over the summer. His hair was still gelled stylishly so strands wouldn't fall and obscure his eyes. His uniform was ridiculously impeccable and pressed, and she hazarded that the velvety robes he donned over it would have cost more than all of Hermione's clothes combined.

"Of course," she said, realising that he had quirked an eyebrow at her long silence.

The Slytherin's smirk morphed into a small smile before pulling the chair and sitting down across her. Hermione watched him cautiously as he pulled out a Potions textbook from his bag and neatly placed a parchment and some writing materials on the desk.

He looked up, feeling her gaze on him, and frowned. "Is something the matter?" he asked.

"What are you doing?" she blurted out.

His frown deepened as he lightly gestured at his things. "Studying, obviously," he said. When Hermione continued to look confused, he sighed and leant back on his chair. "I'm in need of a competent study partner this year for OWLs too."

"You still want to study with me?" she asked, surprised. They'd studied together a few times last year, but most of the time they did it in silence. Regulus occasionally asked questions, and Hermione would answer, that was it.

"You simplify things I need to understand," he confessed. "I plan on sticking around again this year to keep my grades up."

"I thought you said grades didn't really matter when you're practically swimming in galleons," Hermione pointed out.

Regulus expelled a soft snort. "I didn't say that," he interjected. "I mean, _yes_ , grades don't really matter if you're now officially the heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black" – Hermione _swore_ there was snark when he spoke those words – "but my parents still expect the best from me. A worthy Black heir should still have decent OWLs marks."

It didn't escape her notice how his jaw tensed at his words. In fact, she now noticed that the black circles under his eyes were more prominent than the last time she'd seen him. He looked gaunter, more tired, and Hermione wondered what he had had to undergo just to become the new heir to the Black family.

She wasn't privy to how Sirius had been officially disinherited. Every time the topic about his family was brought up, Sirius becomes so tetchy that no one even bothered asking anymore. She knew that James knew, though, seeing as he was his closest friend. But even James was tight-lipped about it.

"I study madly," Hermione finally said, unsure how to react to his previous statements. "Especially now that OWLs are approaching. Even though we studied a few times last year, my study habits will differ now."

To her surprise, Regulus slipped an easy grin on his face. "I heard you had gone _mental_ with my bro – _Sirius_ and his friends last year," he lightly said, his grey eyes brightening up in amusement. "I also heard that none of them got a failing grade, which is saying _something_ because everybody knows Peter Pettigrew isn't exactly the brightest of the lot."

"Watch it," Hermione warned, her eyes narrowing.

"Apologies, I meant no harm," he said, briefly raising his hand to appease the annoyed brunette. "What I am trying to say is that your reputation as the brightest witch of her age precedes you, Pettigrew. Maybe if I studied with you for the rest of the year, my grades may be decent enough to make my parents proud."

She silently stared at him, slowly ingesting the words he was saying. She knew he was one of the intelligent students in her year, having been part of the top group of students consistently each school-year. She'd seen him study in the library too, so she knew he'd take this seriously.

 _However_ , he was still a future Death Eater, never mind how he changed sides prior to his untimely death. Also, she highly doubted he was a Death Eater now, but _soon_ …

Although he was coolly looking at her, waiting for a reply to his proposition, she could see his underlying hopefulness and nervousness in his eyes. He genuinely wanted to study to get good OWLs grades and maybe he genuinely wanted to make his parents proud too. Being the new heir might have already taken a toll on him, and the added pressure of doing great in his studies might be too much. Maybe he needed someone he knew he could rely on academically, and well, who else could help him but the brightest witch of her age herself?

Yes, this relationship would be purely based on their desire to pass the OWLs with flying colours. It would strictly be academic, and if Hermione didn't engage him on topics other than their lessons, then this might work. So that after he was finally Branded, she could turn a blind eye and might not feel too much remorse.

That particular thought left a bitter taste in her mouth, but Hermione swallowed that down and grew resolute. She wouldn't meddle too much with his life – granted, it would be a difficult one – and she shouldn't concern herself with whatever he was bound to choose in the future.

He just needed a study partner. That was it. She could do that.

"Fine," she finally said. Her lips twitched unwittingly when he visibly deflated in relief. " _But_ , I must warn you that I study with Sirius and his friends sometimes. Your paths may cross multiple times."

His gaze hardened at the mention of his brother. "Whatever my bro – that _bastard_ does with his time does not concern me," he harshly spat.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, not liking his tone one bit. "Your brother isn't all bad," she slowly said. "I don't appreciate it when someone insults my friends _and_ my brother all in the span of ten minutes."

Regulus scoffed. "Not all bad?" he said, disregarding her last sentence. "He is a coward who ran away from his responsibilities. A _Blood-Traitor_ in cahoots with Mudbloods and fellow Blood-Traitors. He is no brother of mine."

Her heart clenched at how passionate he was in his speech. "Well then," she snarled, "if I understand how you categorise people in that head of yours, I am also a Blood-Traitor in cahoots with Mudbloods and fellow Blood-Traitors."

Her ire flared at his casual insults. Hermione wasn't really bothered by the word 'Mudblood' anymore after being called that vile name for years during her past life as Hermione Granger. But to hear someone insult her friends as _such_ , well, Hermione just really couldn't keep quiet.

"If you want to be my study partner," she continued with a deathly glare, "then I suggest you stop spouting those ridiculous things in front of me. Better yet, I hope you realise that what you're saying is born out of bigotry _and_ stupidity because I will never, _ever_ associate myself with people with such a ridiculous mindset."

She was breathing heavily now and she knew she'd stunned him, for Regulus's eyes had widened at her words. He could get mad at her for all she cared; if he had Sirius's temper, she was sure he would never associate himself with her again.

But Regulus Black surprised her greatly because he looked properly shamefaced. Whatever mask he constantly wore around people shattered into pieces, guilt shining through his eyes. His cheeks grew pink with embarrassment and he couldn't even match her gaze.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I was out of line."

"W – what?" she gasped, mightily confused. "Seriously?"

The Slytherin uncharacteristically slumped forward and braced his arms on the table. "If you spend a lot of time with Slytherins with such an ideology," he lowly started, "it is quite hard to resist adopting such things, right?"

Regulus then suddenly stiffened, his eyes widening, as he lifted his face and stared at Hermione in shock. "I – I wasn't supposed to say that," he murmured with raw panic painted on his face. He clenched his hands and willed for his eyes to harden, the mask he had carefully crafted once again piecing together to cover whatever vulnerability he had shown to Hermione a while ago.

" _What_?" she gasped once more, disconcerted with the sudden turn of events.

He lowly chuckled, unable to meet Hermione's eyes. "It has been a, well, an exhausting month," he said, an air of aloofness in his voice again. "Forgive me."

Hermione unabashedly gaped at him as Regulus coolly grasped his quill and started to write notes on his parchment. He looked unbothered once more, as if he hadn't just shown that side of him to Hermione.

She wasn't even sure why Regulus had showed that side of him, but perhaps he was right in saying it had been an exhausting month for him. Sirius had been a mess when he had heard he was officially disinherited, getting obnoxious and boisterous whilst his friends tried to calm him down. Maybe Regulus had been a mess during the transfer of heirship too.

"This one passage always confused me," he suddenly said, snapping Hermione's jaw shut. "I tried to ask Professor Slughorn once to explain this to me, but I still couldn't get it." He pushed the textbook towards the stunned brunette and placed a finger on the passage he was talking about. "Maybe you can explain it?" He was expectantly looking at Hermione, so she had no choice but to gingerly grasp his textbook and glanced over it.

"Err," she said, sliding the spare parchment across and grabbing a quill. "It's not really that hard to understand. You just have to remember this." She scribbled some symbols on the parchment while Regulus intently listened.

It was like that between them for a few more hours. Regulus would ask a question and Hermione would answer. She actually appreciated his questions too, because it exercised her brain. They never broached on his insults and sudden vulnerability for the rest of the hour. Hermione begrudgingly admitted that the Slytherin could be tolerable and _witty_ if he wasn't being ridiculous.

"Hermione!"

She lifted her eyes to see her Ravenclaw housemates – Dorothy, Alex, and Michelle.

"Oh, hello," she greeted in return.

The trio had been inseparable ever since first year. She was good friends with them, actually, since they weren't too simpering like Parvati and Lavender, or too rowdy like the Marauders. Since she had been living in the same dormitory with them for years, she sometimes swapped stories with them and even studied with them, if her other friends were indisposed. Hermione knew she would have been part of their group if Lily and Severus hadn't have been so clingy with her.

"We actually thought we'd study with you today," Alex said, her eyes now resting on Regulus's impeccable hair. "But we see you already have company."

Hermione shifted her gaze back at Regulus, who now was casually fixing his things.

"I have to go actually," he said as he now slowly rose up from his seat. He tilted his head in Hermione's direction and gave her another small smile. "This had been an enlightening day, Pettigrew. Until next time."

She dumbly nodded her head as the Slytherin left. He also tilted his head at the other Ravenclaws when he passed by them.

Once he was gone, the trio sat down on the chairs uninvited.

"I didn't know you were friends with Regulus Black!" Michelle whispered under her breath.

"We're not technically friends," Hermione deliberately said.

Dorothy leaned closer. "Did you notice how he smiled?" she softly added. "Regulus Black never smiles!"

"Regulus Black never spends his days away from his cronies," Alex said with an eye roll.

" _Maybe_ ," Michelle added, "Regulus Black likes Hermione."

Dorothy snorted in disbelief. "Regulus Black doesn't like people in general," she pointed out.

"Maybe Regulus Black _only_ likes Hermione," Alex pointed out.

"Blimey," the brunette breathed out in annoyance, "I'm right here, you know."

"Right, of course, sorry," Alex quipped, unbothered by her glare. She dumped her things on the table and started to browse through her Transfiguration book. "I've pondered about this passage for _days_ but I can never understand it. Maybe you can, Hermione?"

Hermione blinked at the blonde's sudden change of mood. She glanced at the other two, who were now busy taking down notes on their parchments.

It amazed her immensely how they could quickly dive into their works. The Marauders always had a hard time in starting to study, they always found something to delay the inevitable. Lily, on the other hand, always talked to her about her day first before she even opened a book. It was refreshing to sit with students whose actual intent was to _really_ study in the library and not dawdle around.

Hermione was unable to suppress a growing smile as she pulled out her Transfiguration book and gave it a quick scan. "Well," she started, "if you put it this way…"

* * *

**September 11, 1976**

Hermione smiled when Lily dropped on the bench beside her on the Ravenclaw table. "Blimey, I'm starving," she said, and proceeded to pile some mashed potatoes and friend chicken onto her plate.

Now that her best friends had made up, Lily and Severus sat on the Ravenclaw table with her again. Hermione had once suggested they should take turns sitting on each other's Houses, but both Lily and Severus loudly protested. Lily said the Gryffindors didn't like Sev at all, so he'd be mercilessly bullied. Sev said Lily was a Muggle-born so of course the Slytherins would be disgusted to have her over. The Ravenclaw table was their neutral ground, so Hermione had now grown accustomed to both Lily and Severus sitting beside her on her House's table.

Lily started chattering about her Care of Magical Creatures lesson while Hermione and Sev listened in silence, exchanging amused glances every time Lily gesticulated wildly or laughed loudly over something she'd said.

They were too engrossed with their conversation that none of them noticed James sneaking behind. "Evans!" he exclaimed.

The redhead jumped in surprise and looked like she was about to bolt away, but James was blocking her exit so she had no choice but to glower at him instead.

"What do you want?" the redhead hotly asked.

"Just passing by to say that your eyes look extra lovely today," he said with a ridiculous grin on his face. Sev snorted besides Hermione and glared at his plate.

"Piss off, Potter," Lily snarled, already standing on the bench and slinging the strap of her bag over her shoulders. "Why can't you ever take a _hint_?"

James casually leaned closer and smirked. "About what?" he asked.

Lily groaned in annoyance and Hermione had to bite her bottom lip to stop from smiling. Lily looked so disgruntled right now; anyone within the vicinity would notice how she couldn't stand the bespectacled Gryffindor. But James looked annoyingly persistent, even unbothered by her anger. Hermione wondered how he could have such perseverance to continue pursuing the obviously uninterested redhead.

"I also heard that you love Chocolate Frogs," he continued. His hazel eyes briefly landed on Hermione, before he grinned and pulled out his wand. With a little wave, Chocolate Frogs started piling in Lily's arms until her head was obscured by the towering sweets. "I may have gone overboard and bought you a lot, but I hope you appreciate them."

"PISS OFF, POTTER!" Lily screamed once more, thrusting the sweets into his arms, and stomping away. Severus stiffly stood up from the bench, excused himself and left, most likely following Lily.

"NEVER!" James hollered back.

Hermione looked at James. "Better luck next time, James," she said with a sigh. James looked strangely unbothered at Lily's rejection and merely smiled at Hermione and shrugged.

"Eh," he flippantly said. "There's always another time."

"That's the spirit," she snorted, rolling her eyes when he chuckled.

"What a waste, though," he said with a sigh, lifting the piles of Chocolate Frogs in his arm. James looked contemplative for a while before he surprisingly deposited the sweets in her arms instead. "Maybe you'll put them to good use."

"Thanks," she said with a tight smile. "But I'm more of a toffee kind of girl." Hermione sighed when he frowned. " _Fine_ , I'll put them to good use."

She balanced the sweets with one arm and pulled out her wand. With a swish, they all flew inside her bag until Hermione's arms were free. She then realised that James was still there, and that this was the first real conversation they had had alone after the debacle back at Potter Manor.

Hermione stilled for a moment, before slowly looking back at James once more. He looked a bit flustered and nervous too, she noted. He fiddled with a loose thread from his worn and well-loved Gryffindor sweater.

"Um, you know," the brunette started, thinking perhaps it was the right time to start telling him the truth. "Some words of advice, James." She nervously tucked a stray curl behind her ear and tentatively looked up at him. His hazel eyes were trained on her this time, a guarded look in them. "Maybe you should tone down your outrageous displays of affection, especially if a girl makes it clear she is getting uncomfortable with it."

"Oh," he said simply, his eyebrows meeting at the middle. "Okay."

The young witch sighed, knowing he hadn't completely understood what she had said. "There are other ways to woo a girl, Potter," she pointed out with a frown. "Being ridiculously boisterous or extravagant with your actions isn't always a sure way to make a girl like you."

James thoughtfully bit his lip and glanced down at his feet. "So," he started, "how do you suggest I woo Lily?"

"For starters, she must really like you," she teased. When he lightly glared at her, she laughed. "I'm not entirely sure. Lily is a delightful girl, but I don't really know what she really likes in a boy. I know she likes The Beatles, and I know she _loves_ to study too, but when it comes to the matters of her heart…" She sighed and absentmindedly scratched her chin. "But maybe like me, she'd want someone who is earnest. Small gestures count, you know. Lily hates attracting too much unwanted attention. She likes to be noticed, but for the right kind of attention. You're making her bloody uncomfortable, _honestly_. I know you like all things grand and boisterous but Lily doesn't." She pierced him with a pointed glance. "You can't get everything by being grand and boisterous, James."

His eyebrows flew up to his hairline, hidden behind his messy fringes. "Way to be frank, Pettigrew," he said with a smirk.

"I was being honest," she corrected, rolling her eyes when she noticed his lips twitching in amusement. "Sometimes, you're too… _overwhelming_."

"Wow, okay, I get it," he sighed.

" _No_ ," she hastily added, "all I'm saying is that Lily doesn't really know your other side. She only knows you as a bully or too cocksure all the time. And Lily hates those sides of you. Maybe if you show her some of your really good sides, then she'd start to like you more."

"Good sides?" he asked. "Like?"

Hermione was starting to grow flustered. "Well," she said, unable to meet his gaze all of a sudden, "you can be really sweet and kind if you want to. And you're a great friend – a great _best friend_. Quite thoughtful too at times."

"Go on," he edged.

She scowled when she heard his teasing grin more than saw it. "But that – like _that_. You can be so arrogant at times and it's annoying," she pointed out. "Lily wasn't kidding when she said you can be such a toerag."

"What does that even mean?" he asked with a brief laugh.

In spite of her embarrassment, she weakly chuckled. "I honestly don't know but it suits you," she stated matter-of-factly.

"Back to listing down my faults now, I see," he said, quirking an eyebrow.

Hermione expelled a soft laugh and shook her head. "All I am saying is it isn't too late to change tactic now, for lack of a better word," she said with a small smile. "You did ask me to help you woo Lily before so I am giving you some pieces of advice."

"And Hermione Pettigrew gives wondrous pieces of advice," he said seriously with a reverent nod. She petulantly frowned at him but he merely gave her a handsome smile. "All right, fine, I might listen to your advice this time."

"A part of me wants to believe what you just said, but knowing you…" She laughed when he threw her a scathing glare. "Good luck on wooing Lily Evans, James Potter. I hope you are successful soon."

Something shifted in his eyes that made his gaze intense and her heartbeat quicken. The smile on his face faltered a bit and Hermione wasn't sure what he was thinking of right now. She knew she was slowly blushing under his intense gaze, but she couldn't seem to look away.

It was James who finally snapped away and ran a hand through his hair. "I hope you're right," he murmured under his breath. He sneaked another shy glance her way and gave her a small smile. "Thanks, anyway. See you around."

He turned on his heel and walked away. Hermione watched him as he slid beside Peter, secretly hoping that Lily would start noticing James soon, so she could trample down these stupid feelings before they festered and swallowed her whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Jamione goodness. More to come!
> 
> I might update again tomorrow. I did say I'm writing sad scenes. Plural. So I may need more reasons to be happy hahahaha.


	17. chapter sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what? Y'all are amazing. You deserve another update!
> 
> Thank you to my Beta, lozipozivanillabean! Thank you so much for all the effort huhu.
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

**xvi.**

_**it starts with a feeling** _

(Falling in Love Pie by Sara Bareilles)

* * *

**December 4, 1976**

"Go away, Peter," Hermione muttered, batting away at his hands which were trying to pull her study materials away.

" _Hermione_ ," he claimed in exasperation, "it's Hogsmeade Day today. Don't you want to go out and have fun with your friends?"

"Why aren't _you_ with your friends?" she snapped irritably, giving up all together when Peter crammed all of her things inside her backpack.

Peter sighed. "Sirius bailed on us because he said he had a date with Marlene McKinnon," he started with a frown. "Remus has some Prefect duties that make him currently indisposed. James has Quidditch practice today, since their match against the Claws are fast approaching. _So_ , I have no one else to be with today."

"Why don't you ask Mary MacDonald then?" she casually asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Her brother's face instantly turned a brilliant shade of red. "W– what?" he asked, trying to act nonchalant but failing miserably. "I mean, why should I even ask her? We're not even _friends_." He broke off and expelled a soft, nervous laugh that made Hermione roll her eyes.

"You're _hopeless_ , Petey," she sighed. While her brother glowered at her, Hermione took that time to glance around the empty library. Even her classmates were enjoying this day in Hogsmeade and ditching an opportunity to study without distractions.

"So, come to Hogsmeade with me," Peter insisted once more. "Just take a breather, Hermione, Merlin!"

She frowned and thought about it for a while. She glanced at her colour-coded schedule and admitted to herself that her brain was already getting a bit fuzzy from her rigorous studying. If she skipped today, she could always compensate the following week. She did assign a cheat day for herself next week, where she wouldn't touch any textbooks, and had been meaning to start reading a new novel she had found in the small library in the Ravenclaw Common Room.

" _Blimey_ , you're not trying to come up with a new schedule, are you?" Peter accused, his eyes narrowing into slits.

Hermione sheepishly smiled at being caught. " _Petey_ ," she interjected. "It's my OWLs year."

"If you haul your arse out of this library, I promise to buy you a yearlong supply of toffee," he said.

"Resorting to bribery, I see," she said, quirking an eyebrow.

"If I have a stubborn witch for a sister, then I should use whatever means," he shot back.

The brunette laughed. " _Fine_ ," she said, already rising up from her chair. She stretched her arms over her head luxuriously and groaned when she felt her back crick. "I was getting a bit saturated from all my studying anyway. Let me just deposit my things and see you at the entrance?"

Peter narrowed his eyes. "If you ditch me, Hermione, I _swear_ —"

"Ugh, Peter, I won't," she scoffed. "Just wait for me at the entrance. I'll be there soon, honest."

"Fine," he said begrudgingly. "Make it quick!"

**-ooo-**

It took her a few minutes to return to the Ravenclaw Common Room and leave her things. Hermione opted to wear a thick denim jacket and changed into sensible boots. After winding her Ravenclaw scarf around her neck, she walked out of the dormitory and sought out her brother.

Peter complained she had taken too long, but Hermione just tuned him out and sat inside the carriage. The Gryffindor soon followed and started asking her about how her year had been, what was she studying now, and would she watch James's upcoming Quidditch match.

Whilst Hermione indulged him with an answer, she realised she hadn't actually spent much time with her brother at Hogwarts. With her growing circle of friends and her upcoming OWLs, she hadn't really had the time to sit down and talk with Peter. He was always with his friends, and she had been trying to avoid an annoying hazel-eyed boy after all, so she spent most of the time by herself or with her other friends.

Regulus had been a frequent study partner for a while now, and they had a silent mutual agreement they would never voice out any opinions about their blood status and their choice of company when together. Regulus was steadily becoming Hermione's new favourite study partner, even topping Lily and Severus, because he also knew the importance of keeping quiet. Mostly, they studied in comfortable silence which would only be broken when one of them asked a question.

Hermione was also starting to spend more time with her Ravenclaw friends. Dorothy, Michelle, and Alex always sought for Hermione every time they ventured in the library to study together. Lily had once lamented that Hermione was starting to have other friends than them, but the brunette merely laughed at her and swore she would always be her most favourite friend.

They finally reached the edge of Hogsmeade and hopped off the thestral-drawn carriages. The skeleton horses had still given her the creeps when she had seen them for the first time in this lifetime.

"You see them, too, don't you?"

Her eyes landed on her pensive brother. "Yeah," she breathed out.

Peter's face darkened as he looked away and buried his mitten-clad hands inside his pockets. She knew he was thinking about their deceased father once more. Peter had gotten over his death and believed that it truly was an accident, that it wasn't _his_ fault, but sometimes he'd have his moments of self-doubt.

Hermione instantly looped her arm around his and tugged him. "Idiot," was all she fondly said.

Her brother gave her a sad smile and pulled her towards Honeydukes. Despite their late arrival, the whole shop was still brimming with students. Hermione greeted some of her Ravenclaw friends she recognised before trailing behind Peter. Her brother had instantly gone to the toffee section and was already scooping a bagful into his hands.

"My teeth are really going to rot soon," she glumly said, watching as Peter got another handful to add to her growing pile.

"No they're not," he laughed. "You brush your teeth like crazy. I've never seen anyone so obsessed with getting clean teeth."

Peter grabbed a bunch of other sweets before going to the counter. Hermione tried to pay for her half, but her brother just waved her off.

Once their sweets were packed, they walked out of the busy streets of Hogsmeade.

"Where to next?" he asked.

"Scrivenshaft's," she replied instantly.

He sighed and smiled in exasperation. "Of course," he said. "I shouldn't have asked."

Hermione made her purchases in said shop while Peter meandered around, grabbing some random school supplies he needed for this school-year. Ever since Hermione had introduced multi-coloured ink to her brother – and by extension his friends – they'd been using it religiously. Peter agreed the different coloured inks highlighted some of the most important things for him, so studying had been easier.

Peter finally dragged her to the Three Broomsticks, complaining he was parched from all the walking. Hermione relented and let him search for an empty booth in the busy pub. Hermione craned her neck around, trying to search for Lily or Severus, wondering if they had gone to Hogsmeade today.

She was a tad disappointed she wasn't able to see them and glumly walked towards Peter, who by then, had been waving his hand enthusiastically at her.

Her brother ordered butterbeers and a few snacks for them to munch on. Hermione contented herself by observing everybody in silence, happy to see that there weren't any war-stricken looks on their faces. The brunette then glanced at her brother and noted the troubled look on his face.

Worried, she placed her butterbeer down and asked, "Is everything all right, Peter?"

He blushed and nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "Well," he started, unable to meet her eyes, "I don't think I'll be able to become an Auror after all."

The brunette frowned, unsure why he was suddenly talking about his future. "What do you mean?" she asked. "You passed the needed OWLs!"

He looked hesitant for a while, most likely debating whether to tell her or not. Hermione patiently waited for him to crack, because _Peter_ always cracked, and she had to bite her bottom lip when he expelled a resigned sigh. "Well," he started, "I… kind of overheard Professor McGonagall saying things yesterday."

"About?" she urged.

"About _me_ , actually," he added.

Hermione knitted her eyebrows. "A little elaboration may help," she said with a small laugh.

This only made Peter disgruntled as he slid deeper on his seat. "She told some teachers how I'm not up to par with my friends," he grumbled. His blue eyes hesitantly landed on Hermione. "And _you_."

A lump lodged in Hermione's throat, as she remembered a memory of Professor McGonagall back in her previous life, confessing how she'd been especially hard on Peter and had regretted it immensely.

"Said it was ridiculous how I hero-worshipped James and Sirius," he continued, tiredly running a hand down his face. "And always wondered why I was related to such a brilliant witch like you."

Her hand instantly latched onto his and gave it a comforting squeeze. "I'm sorry," she said, guilty and sorrowful at the same time. She knew Professor McGonagall always meant well, but she never sugar-coated her words and expected everybody to be at their best - knowledge and attitude wise.

Peter snorted and gave her a withering glance. "She wasn't wrong, you know," he pointed out. "Everybody in school knows you are the better Pettigrew."

" _No_ ," she ground out, suddenly impassioned. "No one is better than the two of us. We have different strengths, different _faults_. You shouldn't doubt yourself at all, Petey, because you are _great_. You are _bloody_ great. Ask Mum; she knows that, too. Listening to criticism should always be a norm, because of course we still need to leave a lot of room for improvement. _But_ , if such criticisms are baseless, spoken by people you never really interact with, who never really made it their job to know _you_ , then I say you just ignore them all together, because you know yourself better than anyone else."

She was deeply frowning by the end of her speech, her hand around Peter's, which was tightening with every syllable.

His eyes glistened but they still refused to meet hers. "Sometimes," he added, "I fear I will grow up to be like him, Hermione."

Her heart clenched in pain, because she thought he was over their father's death. She was once again brought back to a terrified ten-year-old Peter, sobbing over their father's grave because of guilt he wasn't supposed to feel.

She had watched him all these years, _grew up_ beside him for goodness' sake! She had been beside her brother, reverently trying to keep him on the right path, and helping him become better because he was family. And she already knew that he would never grow up to become that traitor; she knew Peter Pettigrew would not grow up like a coward, hiding in the guise of his Animagus form in hopes of running away from all the sins he had committed.

" _No_ ," she vehemently replied, her eyes blurring with tears. "No, you're not going to grow up like him. You are loads better than him, Peter. In many ways… in _all_ ways." She stubbornly swiped some stray tears escaping from her eyes and furiously glared at him. "How could you even think about that, after all these years? You have brilliant friends who love you, Peter. You have Mum and _me_. That… that _man_ – he was alone with his insecurities and hate and I really hated how he became such a huge part of our childhood. I sometimes wished I had done something more because he hurt _Mum_. He hurt _you_. All he cared about was himself, Peter. Unlike you. Because you care a lot, about others so much, and that alone makes you so much better. So what if you aren't as good as James at Transfiguration? Or as good as Sirius at Defence? Or as ridiculously smart as Remus? You have the biggest heart amongst your annoying friends! And they know that too, which is why they let you stick with them, through all their stupid pranks and ridiculous shenanigans, because their group wouldn't be complete without you, Peter. So no, no, _no_ you are not going to grow up like him. You were never even like him in the first place!"

She was crying then, trying to instil in her brother that he was better than what he thought about himself. Peter's eyes had gone wide after her tirade and he broke into a huge smile that made her sigh in relief.

"Blimey, Hermione," he chuckled, briefly looking away to discreetly wipe an errant tear. "You didn't have to blow your top off." He wrinkled his nose slightly and glared. "And why in Merlin's balls are you crying, honestly?"

She took a huge sniff and squeezed his hand once more. "Please don't ever doubt yourself, Peter," she pleaded. The slight teasing on his face disappeared as he openly stared back at her. "You are surrounded by people who can see your worth. Don't let others tell you otherwise."

The smile on his face looked relieved, more than anything else. "Okay," he said, vigorously nodding his head. "Okay, Hermione."

* * *

**December 12, 1976**

"I don't think that's right," Regulus protested, grabbing onto the parchment she had been furiously scribbling down on a while ago. "Professor Vector said you have to cancel this out first before trying to interpret the numbers."

" _No_ ," she interjected with a dark scowl, "she said you have to _multiply_ this first before trying to interpret the numbers." She grabbed the quill from his hand and multiplied the number on the parchment. "Honestly, Regulus, were you even looking at the blackboard?"

"I was!" he snapped. "But your bushy hair kept on obscuring my vision."

She gave him a dark glare. "Then you should have changed seats if my hair annoys you so much," she growled.

"And miss an opportunity to annoy you?" he asked, a small smirk growing on his handsome face. "Fat chance, Pettigrew."

Hermione rolled her eyes and slid the parchment closer to herself. "I still think you have to multiply it first," she insisted. She thrust her Arithmancy textbook towards him and glared. "If you still don't believe me, then bloody read this, for Merlin's sake."

She ignored how his lips twitched in amusement and actually followed her advice.

She and Regulus had met up in the library once more to study for their OWLs. Regulus had finally been a constant companion in Hermione's life and was awarded with one of her most coveted colour-coded schedules. Regulus promised he was religiously following the schedule she had made, even hinting he had been doing some advanced reading.

 _Merlin_ , he was really starting to become her favourite study partner.

"Hermione!" a harsh whisper reached her ears.

Surprised, she looked up from her parchment. She was not expecting to see James Potter standing near her table, his hazel eyes dark and furious as they latched onto the Slytherin sitting across from her.

"James?" she asked, hesitant. "Is something the matter?"

His eyes never left Regulus. The Slytherin was now coolly looking at James, seemingly bored, without any hint of emotion on his face. "We need to talk," he ground out. His eyes angrily swept from Regulus to her and Hermione did not appreciate being glared at.

"You can talk to me _here_ ," she shot back, growing slightly annoyed.

"No, I can't actually," he snarled in return.

Her eyes narrowed. "Why not?" she spat.

"Because it's obviously about _me_ , Pettigrew," Regulus drawled in a bored tone.

The Gryffindor's anger increased as James stared down at the witch in front of him. "What is _he_ doing here?" he said, pointing an accusatory finger in Regulus' direction.

"He's studying with me," Hermione defended. "I— _why_ are you angry?"

"I'm not," he snapped.

"Yes, you are," she hotly replied back.

He took a deep breath and glowered at the Slytherin across from her. "He's a – you know—" He tightly clamped his jaw, tensing with an emotion Hermione didn't understand at all. "He's a Slytherin," he finally said.

Hermione snorted. "Really? Still going on about House rivalry crap and all?" She matched his glare, even when his cheeks reddened. "He happens to be a decent study partner, James. And we're both really just _studying_ for our OWLs. Is that even so bad? And I— _why are you angry_?"

"I am not!" he hissed, his hands clenching at his sides.

"Yes, you are, you berk," she echoed. "What are you even doing here?"

He hesitated for a moment, uncertainty painted in his hazel eyes, and Hermione was _so_ confused. "I… I thought of dropping by to ask if you would come to the Gryffindor Quidditch match tomorrow," he sourly said, his glaring eyes now directed at his shoes.

Hermione blinked in confusion as her eyebrows knitted together. "I might," she deliberately replied. "You're playing against my House after all."

James fluffed his hair and huffed in annoyance. "All right," he said. He paused, looked suddenly irritable once more, and glared at Regulus. "You shouldn't associate with the likes of him, Hermione."

"Excuse me?" the Slytherin scoffed.

" _What_?" she snapped, furious again.

"He's bad news," he hotly replied, pointing another finger at the Slytherin. "He's a prejudiced bastard who thinks the world would be a better place if people like _you_ didn't exist. You, of all people, should know that, Hermione."

She knew he was right. She still remembered their disastrous conversation that forged the way to this tentative, albeit very weird, friendship. But Hermione did not appreciate being talked to like that, with judgment and fury laced together into an ugly snarl. _And why the bloody fucking hell was he so angry_?

"First, Sev, and now Regulus," she snarled under her breath. "I don't care what you think about them, but I don't appreciate it when you question my decisions on who I should and should not associate with."

" _Hermione_ —"

The brunette resolutely looked away from the fuming Gryffindor. "I think you've already achieved your purpose for seeking me out in the library," she snapped in dismissal. "Goodbye, James."

She was unable to see what expression he was making. Hermione heard him expel a sigh of resignation before murmuring his own goodbye. Once she was sure he wasn't going to come back, the brunette once again found herself unwittingly staring at his retreating back.

"Well, that was entertaining," Regulus then commented.

Hermione's gaze landed on the mildly amused Slytherin and frowned. "I'm sorry," she said. "I don't know what has gotten into him."

His eyes were calculating. "Potter's still wooing Evans?" he asked.

She knitted her eyebrows together in confusion. "Yes," she slowly responded. "Why do you ask?"

"Interesting," he murmured, ignoring her question, as a frown now marred his aristocratic face. The Black heir snorted and casually leant against the backrest of his chair. "He isn't entirely wrong, though," he said, his gaze turning intense and meaningful. " _I_ am bad news, Pettigrew. You shouldn't associate yourself with me."

"Then, why do you keep on seeking me out in the library?" she shot back in confusion.

Regulus quirked an eyebrow. "I did tell you I needed a decent study partner who'd help me achieve decent grades on my OWLs," he stated matter-of-factly. "This… _association_ benefits me immensely. I don't see why you're allowing me to use you, Pettigrew."

It unnerved her how he was casually confessing how he viewed their _association_. And Hermione knew she should be angry with him, but she'd remembered how vulnerable he had looked back on the day he had sought her out in the library early this school-year.

To his surprise, Hermione smiled. "You're not using me," she pointed out.

"I'm not?" he asked, dubious.

"No," she said, her smile growing larger. "You want to be my friend."

Surprise briefly flitted in Regulus's eyes, but it was soon hidden behind his usual mask of indifference. The corner of his mouth kept on twitching, though, when he replied, "Don't be ridiculous."

Hermione merely laughed.

* * *

**December 13, 1976**

Hermione found herself blinking widely at the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Password?" she asked, busy tinkling with her wine glass. When Hermione still hadn't talked, she glanced down at the silent brunette and noted her school tie. "You're not a Gryffindor."

"I got invited for the party," she stated, belatedly wishing she had at least gone back to her dormitory to dress out of her school uniform. But she was running late after spending the remaining hours of the day in the library. Lily would surely go ballistic if she ditched her today. "Camelot."

The Fat Lady still looked a tad suspicious, but she finally swung her portrait open and allowed Hermione to enter inside.

Hermione nervously meandered through the rowdy group, trying to search for her best friend amongst the crowd. She still firmly believed this was a bad idea; she should have just stayed in the library until curfew. But Lily insisted she should drop by the Gryffindor Common Room for the celebration party being thrown by the Quidditch team. After their House spectacularly won against Ravenclaw a while ago, the Gryffindors had agreed to throw a party to celebrate their win.

She was able to watch the game, of course. Although the Gryffindor Seeker caught the Snitch, it was undeniable that James Potter's amazing performance as the Chaser guaranteed the win. Without him, Ravenclaw may have had a chance to defeat them. Now, Hermione understood that Quidditch really did run in the blood of the Potters. She felt like she was watching her Harry play Quidditch once more, making her feel teary and uncomfortable, which was why she excused herself a bit earlier before the end of the match to compose herself in the library.

Lily soon found her in the library slaving over a Transfiguration text book, and demanded that she should come over to the Gryffindor Common Room. "Everybody wants to meet the brightest witch of her age," she had teased, prompting Severus to snort and Hermione to blush. "I would have invited Sev, too, but I don't want the whole tower to blow up. I'm quite fond of our common room, actually."

Hermione promised she would come after Lily's persistence, saying that she still had some last-minute revision to do. Lily and Sev left her alone then, and Hermione had been debating for the last hour whether she should really go or not.

She had dodged Lily's invitations before and she knew Lily would drag her arse to the tower herself, if Hermione still refused to come. Besides, it was just the Gryffindor Common Room. Granted, each corner would most probably overwhelm her with memories of Hermione Granger, but she could just distract herself with the rowdy Gryffindors. After all, parties thrown by Gryffindors were infamous throughout the school, no matter what timeline they were in.

The lone Ravenclaw backpedalled a bit when she was greeted with a blasting song from a Wizarding band she didn't recognise. The whole place was decorated with proud lions, red and gold, and someone had bewitched red and gold fireworks that illuminated the whole ceiling. Most of the squashy chairs were pushed to the sides to give some space in the middle, for dancing or playing, or whatever the students wanted to do. Hermione was able to spy a small table holding towering piles of food they had undoubtedly snuck out of the kitchens. There was a punch bowl too, most likely spiked by a Gryffindor prankster, since some of the students were already swaying on their feet and giggling over something ridiculous.

"HERMIONE!"

She heard her name amongst the ruckus and was greeted with a mouthful of red hair obscuring her vision. "Lily," she greeted, pulling the overexcited Gryffindor away from herself. The older witch's cheeks were already flushed red and Hermione guessed she had fallen victim to the spiked punch too. "You're drunk," she tutted.

"Maybe a bit tipsy, but I can still think clearly," Lily sheepishly said. "I'm still a Prefect after all. We don't want anything to get out of control, yeah? So, did you just arrive? Welcome to the Gryffindor Common Room! Blimey, honestly, it isn't this rowdy most of the time but you know what they say about Gryffindors throwing a party, eh?"

Hermione snorted in bemusement. A tipsy Lily was more talkative than usual and Hermione bet that Lily's mouth would be like a motorboat once she was stupidly drunk.

Lily pulled her around, introducing her to different Gryffindors, fondly calling her the brightest witch of her age and her beloved best friend. Hermione was able to meet new people she had never interacted with before, surprised that _they_ knew her even though she didn't know them. _"Your reputation precedes you,"_ Regulus had once said, and perhaps he wasn't embellishing at all.

Although the Gryffindors were lovely and welcoming, Hermione was getting overwhelmed by the new people she'd met and the rowdiness all together. She had long ditched her school robe, now slung over her arm, and she'd rolled her sleeves up to her elbow. She eyed Lily's comfortable Muggle clothes – modest plaid skirt and a tank top – and once again wished she'd at least gone back to her dormitory to change out of her stuffy school uniform.

"HERMIONE!"

She heard her name being called amidst the noisy crowd for the second time that night. She craned her neck to search for the source of the voice, and saw her brother.

Sheepish desperation briefly appeared on her face, discreetly tilting her head towards her overexcited best friend. Peter thankfully understood her plea for help as he started meandering through the crowd. By the time he reached her, his eyes were laughing at her expense.

"Lils, mind if I steal my sister for a while?" Peter asked.

"—and Petunia's stupid fiancé suddenly got up from his chair— _oh_ , what? Hi, Peter. Yeah, sure, sure," Lily distractedly said as she looked back at Marlene and Mary, recounting another disastrous encounter she'd had with Petunia and Vernon Dursley that Hermione had heard for the umpteenth time. Judging from the looks on the other girls' faces, they had heard that story before too, but were just indulging the redhead.

"Thanks," Hermione whispered once they were out of earshot from Lily. "I love Lily to the moon but she's just so… so _vivacious_. I can't keep up with her relentless energy."

Her older brother chuckled and slung an arm over her shoulders, steering her towards someplace she didn't know. "That's Lily Evans for you," he said with a wide smile on his face. He then looked down at her out of the corner of his eyes. "I didn't know you'd drop by."

"Lily invited me," she answered. "And I got curious about how Gryffindors throw a party."

"How do _Ravenclaws_ throw a party?" Peter asked, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Passing around book reviews and exchanging brand new quills?"

"Very funny, berk," she said with a flourished eye roll. "Definitely less rule breaking, though."

Peter snorted and looked at her like she was barmy. "Hermione, _really_ , the greatest pranksters Hogwarts has ever seen are currently Gryffindors," he pointed out. "Of course it wouldn't be a magnificent party if we stuck to the rules."

"Of course," she echoed with a small smirk on her face.

Her brother finally brought her towards the squashy couches near the roaring fire. The place was scarce of other partygoers, except for three wizards who were bent over a game of Wizard's chess.

"Whiskers!" Sirius exclaimed, who was the first one to see her. "You're here."

"Lily invited me," she said, chuckling under her breath when Sirius made a huge show of toppling towards her to throw his arms around her for a mighty hug. Sirius Black was definitely drunk, but _he_ was a handsome drunk and she finally realised he might be the one Marlene McKinnon kept on distractedly glancing at while Lily chattered on endlessly.

"You shouldn't have come," Remus said with an exasperated sigh. "If you wanted to get out alive."

"Nonsense, Moony," Sirius slurred, batting him away. "Don't listen to him, kitten. He's just cranky because the full moon's about to come."

The irate werewolf glared back at Sirius. "Right, of course, announce to the whole world I'm a _bloody fucking_ werewolf," he growled.

Hermione's eyes widened as she looked at Remus, a tad nervous that somebody had heard his casual confession of his affliction. But those who were near them were either too inebriated to care or were too busy gyrating their hips to the ridiculous music.

"Sorry about that," Remus said, his cheeks reddening a bit as he saw Hermione's eyes. "It's been a tiring day."

The brunette gave him an understanding smile and fished out two boxes of Chocolate Frogs from her skirt pocket. "Endorphins," she said, throwing them towards his waiting hands. "I somehow got a huge supply from some idiot so I thought I should share them."

Said idiot had grown quiet ever since Hermione had arrived, his hazel eyes only snapping towards her when she commented on her supply of Chocolate Frogs.

Hermione congratulated herself for staying composed as her blue eyes connected with James. He was already out of his Gryffindor Quidditch robes, which was a _relief_ , because Merlin Almighty, Hermione had felt strange things when she saw him on that broomstick looking so… so…

' _Shut up, Hermione,'_ she told herself, sighing internally because her hopes of getting over her ridiculous crush for the Gryffindor still hadn't been realised.

"All right, Pettigrew?" James hesitantly asked, his right hand running through his windswept hair.

Her eyes softened, noting his nervousness. She still had no idea what made him blow up in the library yesterday, but he looked genuinely remorseful so she couldn't really stay mad anymore. "Yeah," she said, a small smile growing on her face. "Good game, though. Congratulations."

The smile he gave her was blinding. "Yeah?" he asked, puffing out his chest like the arrogant toerag he was. "It wasn't one of my best performances but I still was _amazing_."

Hermione sighed. "It's too crowded in this common room already to accommodate your huge ego, James," she said with a frown.

He boisterously laughed, his hazel eyes glinting under the showering red and gold ceiling. He looked _so_ relieved that he was forgiven for being a berk that Hermione couldn't stop herself from smiling at him in return.

Peter sat Hermione beside him and they contentedly watched as the other three Gryffindors continued their game of Wizard's Chess. Sirius and James kept on drinking the spiked punch, steadily growing rowdier and rowdier.

"It's a full moon tomorrow," Hermione pointed out under her breath. "Shouldn't you be resting or something?"

"We plan on asking for some of your Sobering Potion, actually," Peter said with a sheepish smile.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I _knew_ the punch would be spiked so I did bring some," she said.

"You're a life-saver, Whiskers, honest," Sirius said with a lopsided grin.

Remus was grumbling something under his breath and Hermione absentmindedly fished two more Chocolate Frogs inside her pocket and threw them towards the cranky werewolf. He immediately devoured the sweets and marginally calmed down, but still looked a tad annoyed at Sirius.

"How much are you hiding in your pockets?" James asked with wide eyes.

"Enough," she said dismissively. "Anyway, I want to join you in the Shrieking Shack tomorrow."

The four boys froze on their seats, before hesitantly looking at the resolute brunette. "It's going to be dangerous," Sirius deliberately said, his grey eyes glassy as they worriedly latched onto her form.

"The last time you were in the Shrieking Shack, things almost didn't end well," James added with a stubborn frown.

"It's best if you just stayed here like a good little sister," Peter said with reverent nod. "Study yourself all throughout the night if you must."

Hermione lightly scowled and looked at Remus, who had grown quiet after her declaration. "I'm already an" – she briefly glanced around and ducked her head – " _Animagus_ , so it won't be dangerous for me at all. Besides, I haven't exercised my transformation since the start of the school-year. This is a good opportunity to perfect it."

"Fine," Remus said with a disgruntled sigh.

"Remus!" Peter and James exclaimed at the same time, looking betrayed.

Sirius, on the other hand, snorted. "Once she gets that look on her face, no one's going to stop her," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"I'll be an _Animagus_ anyway," she pressed on. "Remus will not hurt me."

"You don't know that," Peter protested. His cheeks reddened when he realised what he had said and apologetically looked at his best friend. "No offense, Moony."

Remus merely shrugged and opened another Chocolate Frog. "Just get away as fast as you can if things start to get disastrous," the werewolf casually said in between bites.

Hermione smiled. "I can do that."

* * *

**December 14, 1976**

They were waiting for her near the great oak doors of the castle. Hermione quirked an eyebrow at their all-black attire but didn't voice out her observation. Her eyes swept towards the werewolf; Remus already looked sickly and a brief glance overhead showed that the moon would be fully visible soon.

"Here," James said, extending a familiar cloak.

Hermione's eyes widened at the Invisibility Cloak, reverently grasping it in her hands. It looked _the same_ , like it was still brand new. Hermione was always curious as to why Harry's Invisibility Cloak still functioned perfectly despite being used consistently over the years. Harry told her he wasn't entirely sure either, but Dumbledore had once offered he came from a long line of inventors.

"Dumbledore knows about _us_ breaking curfew, but not _you_ ," James explained, mistaking her silence for curiosity. "Honestly, it was always easiest for us to get away from Filch when there was a full moon."

"Come on," Sirius murmured, worriedly staring at the night sky. "We have to get there before the transformation."

Hermione hastily threw the cloak over her body and trailed behind Peter. She was feeling irrationally nervous, and she knew her brother could feel it. Peter kept close to her along the journey. Hermione found it difficult to keep up with the four, unbelievably tall adolescent boys and she had to hastily jog behind them.

James deftly ducked through the dancing branches of the Whomping Willow to press the knot on the bark. Once the tree had stilled, he and Sirius tightly gripped Remus's arms and hastily slid inside.

"Come on," Peter whispered, allowing her to pass through first. Once she was inside the tunnel, Hermione removed the cloak and blindly followed behind the other three.

The ground floor of the Shrieking Shack was tidier this time, but Hermione had no time to observe more as James and Sirius hastily hauled Remus up the stairs. Remus was already contorting strangely, low groans of pain escaping from his mouth. Hermione unthinkably followed, but Peter held her hand to stop her.

"You don't want to see his transformation," he said with a shake of his head.

"But—"

"I _know_ that Remus doesn't want you to see him transform either, Hermione," he continued with a grave stare. "Just stay here. Sirius and James can handle him."

The brunette bit her bottom lip before slightly nodding her head. Her hold on his hand tightened and they waited for Remus's complete transformation. After a moment, Remus began howling loudly, and she could hear muffled curses which came from the other two.

Her eyes prickled with unshed tears when Remus's howls of pain reverberated through the walls of the Shrieking Shack. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see that even Peter was pale from the horrifying sounds. They had been accompanying Remus during his transformations for years already, but it was plain to see that it didn't make it less difficult to witness and hear him transform.

"We should transform now," Peter said, as Remus's howls grew louder and more incessant. "It'll be better if Remus's werewolf form cannot catch a whiff of human scent. It will be easier for him."

Hermione firmly nodded her head and pulled out her wand. Peter instantly changed into his rat form and scuttled around Hermione's feet. She knew it was possible to change wandless, but her skills still weren't up to par with the Marauders yet. She had practiced a little before, but she still hadn't mastered wandless transformation.

The witch then tightly gripped her wand and closed her eyes, vividly imaging her Animagus form. An Abyssinian cat with honey-coloured fur and bright, blue eyes appeared in her mind's eye. Hermione fought a shiver when she could feel her clothes shifting, melting within her skin that had started to grow fur. She could feel herself shrinking in size and when the feeling had gone, she opened her eyes. It took her a minute to adapt to her sudden change in vision, now being able to observe the room with a broader visual range. Peter instantly curled against Hermione's furry abdomen and they waited for Remus's transformation to become complete.

A few minutes passed when loud hooves echoed on the stairs. Both Hermione and Peter stood on their paws as James in his stag form trudged towards them. Hermione realised that James's Animagus form was really _huge_ ; the end of his antlers scraped the wooden ceiling and he had to duck his head down a couple of times just to avoid hitting the low hanging lamps.

James stood up to his fullest height and stopped right in front of Hermione and Peter. His hazel eyes briefly met hers, before he turned his head back towards the stairs.

Sirius in his dog form soon came jumping down from the stairs, incessantly barking as if he was calling someone to play. Another set of footsteps from upstairs soon reached Hermione's pointy ears and she held her breath, watching with keen eyes as Remus in his werewolf form came tumbling forwards.

Briefly, the memory of her under his mercy flashed before her eyes and she involuntary shivered. Peter sensed her discomfort, for he pressed all of himself against her just to give her some semblance of support.

Remus's golden eyes swept in their direction. James shifted slightly so that he could fully cover both Hermione and Peter from Remus's gaze, but the werewolf was already distracted by Sirius's constant barking. The huge dog then bounded towards the tunnel, the werewolf not too far behind.

Once their yipping had grown softer and farther away, James canted his head towards the tunnel. Peter immediately skittered towards the tunnel, his small build giving him the advantage of speed. Hermione stood up on her paws once more and tested her limbs, tentatively slinking towards the tunnel.

She meowed in surprise when she was suddenly nudged forward. She glanced at the humongous stag behind her and hissed her displeasure, but James only expelled a weird sound that strangely sounded like a laugh. Hermione immediately bounded away and emerged out of the tunnel.

Peter was waiting for her to arrive. He lifted his tiny paw and gestured her down. Hermione wasn't sure what he wanted to do, but she followed him nonetheless. Peter instantly climbed onto her head and settled on her shoulder.

Amused, she meowed once more and lifted herself up. They waited for James to emerge out, and Hermione could hear more scrapings and annoyed huffs. By the time James had emerged, he was disgruntled and a bit dishevelled. The tunnel was impossibly narrow, after all, and James's Animagus demanded a huge space. _Merlin_ , he was really enormous.

James then soon galloped towards the Forbidden Forest and Hermione, with Peter, immediately followed him. She was pleased that her Animagus form was fast and lithe. Despite his longer legs, Hermione was able to keep up with James.

They could soon hear playful yelps and howls, so they followed those sounds. They arrived at a clearing and Hermione was amused to see that Remus was chasing Sirius around, howling loudly as if he was having _fun_. It had unnerved her a bit, because all she had ever experienced with a werewolf was terror, and to see one having fun was a strange sight.

The stag then ran towards the playing duo and joined in the fun. Hermione contented herself by curling near a huge boulder, knowing they would undoubtedly trample her if she joined in. Peter, having the same thought, jumped down from her shoulders and instead sat down on the dewy grass.

They stayed there for quite some time. Hermione had actually dozed off a few times, jerking awake every time a loud bark or howl came from the other three. Remus didn't even glance in their direction, too busy chasing his two other best friends.

Perhaps, a few hours had passed when she was suddenly prodded awake by a wet muzzle. She meowed in displeasure and lightly glared into Sirius's grey eyes, his mouth stretched frightfully into a huge smile, his pointy teeth peeking underneath.

Hermione then blearily blinked her eyes and looked heavenward, noting the beginnings of a sunrise. She glanced at the other two and saw that Remus was once again back in his human form and was slumped on top of James's back.

They journeyed back to the Shrieking Shack, this time less urgent and lazier. Peter kept on falling asleep on her back and they had to stop countless times just to stop him from careening downward.

They all followed James when he climbed up the stairs. He then deposited the slumbering Remus on the bed and proceeded to transform back to his human form. His hair was sticking up in all directions and his glasses were askew; there were a few leaves stuck in his hair and Hermione's hand itched to reach forward and remove them one by one.

But, she stopped herself and instead looked at Remus. He had fewer fresh scratches and wounds on his face and body today, perhaps because he had been too busy playing around with his best friends to remember his innate need to hunt for humans. Both Sirius and Peter also went back to their human forms and slumped on the bed with Remus. Sirius occupied the other side while Peter curled up at the foot of the bed. They instantly passed out due to exhaustion, prompting Hermione to fondly roll her eyes.

It took her a longer time than them to transform back to her human form, but definitely less than the ten minutes it had taken before. Hermione took that as progress and sleepily grinned at their slumbering forms, already trudging forward and grabbing onto the discarded blankets on the floor. She tucked both Sirius and Remus under one blanket, and covered Peter with another.

There was only one huge gash on Remus's cheek, and she decided to ditch using dittany on it. It was after all, an expensive healing balm, and she was admittedly feeling guilty for 'borrowing' the balm from Madame Pomfrey's stash. A simple healing charm would do the trick.

Hermione pulled out her wand, murmured a soft spell under her breath, and watched as his wound knitted together until a barely visible scar was left.

Satisfied with her work, Hermione straightened up and allowed a huge yawn to escape. She turned on her heel and was about to leave the Shrieking Shack, but almost yelped in surprise at forgetting that there had been another wizard in the room.

James was still awake, obviously exhausted, but he was sitting on the worn, maroon couch with an unreadable expression on his face. There was something in his hazel eyes that made her heart race, and Hermione forced herself to look away to keep herself sane.

"I'm going to go back to Hogwarts first," she said, explaining her departure. "You should rest for now, James."

"Aren't you going to tuck me in?"

Hermione's eyes widened as they snapped to him in shock. There was challenge in his tired eyes, a teasing smirk on his handsome face, and Hermione felt her breath hitching. "W – what?" she stammered, hating herself for getting immediately flustered.

"Don't you think it's mighty unfair even _Sirius_ got your special treatment?" he innocently asked.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she watched as he haphazardly removed his dragonhide boots and sprawled on the couch. He extended the blanket towards her, though, steadfastly looking at her. "Come on, Whiskers," he said.

" _Seriously_?" she ground out, rounding on him with clear astonishment in her eyes.

James's hazel eyes didn't falter, but there were suspicious red splotches on his high cheekbones. "Tuck me in," he demanded, with the air of confidence that never left James Potter.

Hermione gaped at him, disbelieving, but James started to vigorously shake the blanket until she had no choice but clutch onto it.

The Gryffindor shifted on the couch until he was comfortable and Hermione uncertainly hovered over him. She was trying her best not to meet his eyes, but James demanded attention and damn it all, she couldn't stop herself.

His hazel eyes seemed darker at such a close proximity, the brown colour more prominent. The specks of green in his eyes were barely noticeable from a distance, but as she leant closer, she could see them – count how many specks there were, even.

Her bushy hair curtained in front of her face, blessedly hiding her sudden blush, as she gingerly covered him with the blanket. She wanted to convince herself this was all because of her hormones, that her body was acting up every time she was close to an attractive boy. _But_ , it frustrated her so immensely, because she was only like this with James. Sirius was undoubtedly a sight for sore eyes, with his rebellious, shaggy hair and a smile that could even make her stare. Remus was handsome, too, with his golden eyes and kind smile. But neither evoked such dizzying feelings from Hermione and it was terrifying, _so_ terrifying, that no matter how much she tried to convince herself it would pass, she couldn't stop herself from seeking James out, even when he was miles away from her.

"Blimey, Hermione, your hair is _monstrous_ ," he commented with a soft laugh. He lifted his fingers and grasped a few of her curls. "I bet you'd have to finish a tub of my Dad's potion just to tame them all."

"Two whole tubs, actually," she corrected without much thought.

His fingers stilled. "You've used Sleekeazy's before?" he asked, surprised. "When?"

Hermione's eyes widened at her slip and mentally berated herself for being so careless. "Never mind that," she dismissed, instantly pulling away to put some comfortable distance between her and the dizzying boy. "Go to sleep, James."

She hesitantly looked down at him and saw his small, handsome smile. Her heart stuttered at the sight once more and she almost groaned in frustration, wondering why she suddenly found herself in this situation. She had never even thought about James before! He was just her brother's best friend, an arrogant bully who wanted all the attention for himself.

But because of that kiss… that _blasted_ kiss…

Hermione blew a frustrated breath instead and reached down to grab his glasses. She stilled when James suddenly grasped her wrist, his eyes a little wide.

"What are you doing?" he breathed out.

She had tucked Harry to bed countless times before - it had been a ritual for her to remove his glasses and place them on the table beside him. Her hand must have acted automatically due to muscle memory, when she had unconsciously noticed the askew glasses perched on James's nose.

"I was going to remove your glasses," she slowly explained. "I've known quite a few people who have fallen asleep with their glasses on and woken up to find them broken."

"Oh," James merely said.

Hermione uncertainly glanced at his warm hand around her wrist. "Um," she said, her eyes darting meaningfully to his eyes and then to her wrist.

"Right," he said, instantly removing his hand as if it had been burned. A disturbed look appeared in James's eyes and the confidence he exuded a while ago was extinguished.

"May I?" she hesitantly asked. When James merely nodded, she grasped the frame of his glasses and removed them from his face. Her fingers unwittingly brushed against his cheek, noting some growing stubble, and felt herself blushing once more.

Hermione instantly straightened up and took a few steps back just until she could properly breathe. "Go to sleep, James," she repeated in a whisper, placing his glasses on the unit beside the couch.

The Gryffindor made a sound at the back of his throat and didn't meet her eyes.

The brunette bid a hasty goodbye and ran down the stairs embarrassed, cursing herself all the way for being easily swayed by a stupidly handsome boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You want Jealous James? I give you Jealous James ahahahaha
> 
> I really can't believe you are all still reading this! I love love love all of your reviews, especially those including your theories. A few are so close to what I've planned, while some offered speculations I've never even thought of before but can actually work if I inserted it in this ridiculously long fic.
> 
> But really, thank you so much for still reading this, most especially to my reviewers. I'm sure you're all surprised with my fast update, but you see, I've been working on this fic since April :)). I actually only have to write 4 more chapters to finish this monstrous fic! As a med student, I think I was so used to being productive and although I welcome the long break, I'm already starting to lose my mind hahaha. I honestly didn't expect to be writing a very long fic since I've started med school! But welp, here I am, ridiculously nervous because I feel like you're expecting so much from this fic already. I hope I don't disappoint huhu.
> 
> So yes, I can actually update again tomorrow hahaha. You've all been really kind so I hope my updates brighten your day. Thank you!


	18. chapter seventeen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all went ballistic last chapter! Yes, well, I'm going to make you more ballistic HAHAHA
> 
> Also holy schanps! This fic has already reached 400 kudos *insert incoherent noises here*. I love you all so much, you have no idea how much you've made me happy huhu
> 
> Thank you so much to my lovely Beta, lozipozivanillabean!
> 
> Enjoy :)

* * *

**xvii.**

_**sweetheart, you look a little tired** _

(Two by Sleeping at Last)

* * *

**February 14, 1977**

"I give up."

Regulus angrily pushed the bundles of parchment on the library table and glared at them liked they'd committed a great offense. Hermione blearily looked up from the notes she was taking and knitted her eyebrows.

"Already?" she asked, briefly glancing at her wristwatch. "You haven't been here for an hour yet."

He irately crammed his things inside his designer satchel and scowled. "I feel like my brain is going to burst," he complained, pausing his attack just to glare at his colour-coded schedule. "If I study for another minute, I _swear_ I'm going to burn something down."

He looked so incensed it was comical and Hermione had to fight back a grin. It wasn't every day a person could see Regulus Black so flustered and out-of-sorts. Judging from the gapes from the three Ravenclaws sitting on the table behind them, Hermione was sure they were bewildered by the Black heir's breakdown too.

"I'm going," he gruffly said, already standing up from his seat and shouldering his satchel.

"But the schedule—"

" _Fuck_ the schedule," he cursed. He turned on his heel and marched out of the library, none-too-gently closing the doors behind him.

"Well, would you look at that," Alex drawled, craning her neck to look at Hermione with a wide grin. "Who knew Regulus Black's feathers could actually get ruffled, eh?"

Michelle slumped down on her table and groaned. "He's bloody right, though," she complained. "If I study for another minute, I might start a fire or something."

"Maybe, we should call it a day," Dorothy offered as she glanced at her wristwatch.

Hermione's eyes widened. "What? Already?" she asked, a tad panicky. "But the schedule—"

"Fuck the schedule," Alex echoed with a small smirk. "Besides, it's Valentine's Day! Don't you have a date with a handsome boy today, Hermione?"

The bushy-haired witch knitted her eyebrows. "It's Valentine's Day?" she asked, grabbing onto her colour-coded schedule. She had been so distracted by the neon green highlighting of her Herbology study lessons that she hadn't even realised what the date was.

"Do _you_ have a date?" Michelle asked the blonde witch, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"I wish," Alex said with a scoff, tossing her silky blonde hair over her shoulders. "Boys in our year are such _buffoons_. Regulus Black is the dreamiest of them all, and he doesn't even know my name, even though we've been studying with him for weeks."

"Except Hermione's," Dorothy pointed out with a smirk.

"Except Hermione's," Michelle echoed with a sigh.

Hermione scrunched her nose at their glinting eyes. "We're just study partners," she corrected. "Why are you so adamant that something's going on between us?"

"Are you sure there's nothing going on between you?" Dorothy asked with a wicked grin. "Regulus Black is notorious in the Slytherin House as someone who never associates himself with people who aren't Pureblood. Granted, you're Half-Blood, Hermione, but your best friend is a Muggle-born and you hang out with the Marauders! You're everything Regulus Black shouldn't associate with and yet, he always seeks you out."

The brunette could already feel a headache forming. "Think whatever you want, blimey," she said with an exasperated glance at her Ravenclaw friends.

" _Speaking_ of the Marauders," Alex said with a hopeful glint in her eyes. "Is Sirius Black dating someone?"

"Marlene McKinnon, I suppose," Hermione said, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. "Why?"

Alex made a face. "Shame," she said with a sigh. "How about Remus Lupin?"

"None as of the moment," the brunette said, her eyes already straying back to her parchment.

"Mmhmm, okay, noted," the blonde said with a faraway look on her face. "So, James Potter is off limits, of course, since he only has his eyes on Lily… so that leaves your brother?"

"You're interested in my brother too?" Hermione asked with wide eyes.

The blonde girl merely shrugged. "He grew a little taller over the summer and he's shed that cute baby fat," she explained. "He's nice to look at too, you know."

Hermione grimaced. "I'd rather not know, thank you very much," she said. "But I think he fancies Mary MacDonald and— _why_ are we talking about boys instead of studying again?" Hermione flustered a bit, realising she was gossiping about her Gryffindor friends, and glowered at the other girls.

"It's Valentine's Day," Michelle simply stated, as if that answer explained her question perfectly.

"Right," Hermione said with a sigh.

"Come on, Hermione, let's have a break today. Dumbledore cancelled all the classes after all," Dorothy said, grasping onto Hermione's arm to stop her furious scribbling. "My mother sent me a box of chocolates and Alex smuggled some wine from the kitchens, so you know, we can hang out in our dormitory and talk about boys and how ridiculous they are."

"I don't like talking about boys," Hermione snorted.

"Talk about Arithmancy then, Merlin's balls!" Alex exclaimed with an amused smile. "Just as long as we don't spend the rest of our time here in the library. It's bloody depressing. Come on, Hermione!"

The brunette hesitated, her headache already pounding. She knew she needed to rest, but she also knew she'd get terribly uncomfortable if she didn't finish her studying for today. "Maybe later," she answered as compensation. She smiled when the girls looked disappointed. "Look, you can go on without me. I'll catch up later."

"Sure?" Dorothy asked with a sigh. "The chocolates Mum sent are insanely delicious, honest."

"It's fine," Hermione said with a laugh. "Besides, I love toffees more than any kind of chocolates."

Alex made a face. "Who likes toffees more than chocolate?" she said.

"I do," the brunette retorted, slightly offended.

"Are you really sure, Hermione?" Michelle tentatively asked. "We can… well, we can wait for you before we hang out in our dormitory?"

She thought it was sweet how they wanted to wait for her. But, she'd seen the disappointment on their faces and she didn't want them to have any negative feelings today. It was Valentine's Day after all and if anyone in this school deserved a break today, it would be Hermione Pettigrew's study partners.

"I'll be fine," Hermione reassured. "You go on without me. I promise I'll head back soon."

The three girls exchanged glances before Dorothy sighed. "All right," she said. They started gathering their things and stood up from their seats. "But please, Hermione, don't study yourself crazy today, yeah? It's _Valentine's Day_. Love yourself a little."

Hermione laughed and nodded her head, waving goodbye as her Housemates left.

Once they were gone, Hermione's hand climbed up to her head once more and gave it a massage. The pounding headache persisted, prompting Hermione to sigh. Her forehead connected with the wooden table as she tightly closed her eyes.

' _Only a few more pages, Hermione,'_ she thought to herself.

**-ooo-**

James was mentally listing everything that was going to happen later at dinner. His elaborate plan to yet again woo Lily Evans seemed solid enough. Remus reckoned there was less obnoxiousness now and Sirius firmly agreed that James sounded earnest, whatever the hell that meant anyway. Peter, as usual, just agreed with whatever the majority agreed with, and with a tired sigh, James knew he shouldn't trust his best friends' opinions. Besides Sirius, they were _pants_ with wooing a girl. Peter still had trouble confessing to Mary MacDonald and Remus seemed much more interested with reading than catching a girl's eyes. Sirius wasn't exactly a stellar mentor either, because he was notorious for his flings and a not-so-serious relationship with Marlene McKinnon.

So, he knew there was only one solution to his current predicament: ask Hermione.

It was her who had told him he had to change tactics in wooing Lily after all. Maybe she'd give more insightful suggestions on how he could pull off his Valentine's plan for tonight.

Thus, knowing Hermione, he knew she'd be tucked away somewhere in the library, madly studying about her upcoming OWLs. He just hoped she would be alone, or without _Regulus Black_ really. The ugly feelings that climbed from his stomach and wrapped tightly around his heart were still fresh in his mind. James was still unsure as to why seeing Regulus with Hermione that day had evoked such ferocious feelings in him. Sure, he had been a bastard to his brother, and anyone who picked on his best friends were already on his bad list. But still, the ugly feelings unnerved him and he had vowed to steer clear from the library ever since, in fear of becoming irrationally angry once again.

He shook his head and got rid of such thoughts when he finally arrived in front of the library doors. Before he could enter, the doors burst open. Three fifth year girls came out and he instantly recognised them as Hermione's Ravenclaw classmates.

"Hey!" he called out.

They halted and glanced at him, surprise evident on their faces.

"Is Hermione inside?" he asked, suddenly feeling uncomfortable under their curious gazes.

"She's inside," the girl with ebony hair replied, a small smile on her face. "Still studying."

"I think she's trying to kill herself," a pretty blonde replied with a flourished eye roll, prompting James to grin.

"Alex," the brown-haired girl said reproachfully. She apologetically glanced at him and smiled. "Tell Hermione she needs to take a break. She didn't listen to us so maybe she'll listen to you, James."

It still perturbed him how people knew his name when he didn't even know theirs. He gave them a hesitant smile for thanks and bid them goodbye. James then quickly went inside and scanned the whole library for Hermione.

He easily spied her near one of the humongous windows. He quirked an eyebrow when he saw her bent down on the table, her crazy curls a messy halo around her head. James cautiously approached the brunette, wondering if she was resting.

He furtively looked around, trying to see if anyone was watching him. Satisfied that he was left alone, James inserted his hand inside his robe pocket and fished out a toffee candy. She did say she was a toffee kind of girl, so she wouldn't appreciate a Chocolate Frog. He had bought a lot of Chocolate Frogs last Hogsmeade weekend for his Valentine's plan for Lily, but then added a few toffees as an afterthought – for Hermione.

James gingerly placed it on the table and slid it closer to the resting brunette. He almost yelped in surprise when Hermione suddenly lifted her head and stared at him suspiciously. His eyes instantly latched on the bright, red spot on her forehead, before travelling towards her dishevelled hair. He bit back a laugh, remembering how his father had wondered how much Sleekeazy's Hermione would need to tame her hair after the brunette had left their Manor. Euphemia and James thought one tub was enough but Fleamont, with a boisterous laugh, bet she would need two. Seems he had won the better, if what Hermione had told him back at the Shrieking Shack was true.

"James?" she asked, cutting him off from his musings.

"Hi," he greeted. His right hand twitched and ran through his hair before he could even stop it. "I brought you something."

She blearily glanced at the single toffee on the table and blinked. "Oh," she said dumbly. Her blue eyes landed back on him. "Thanks."

His eyes narrowed suspiciously at how unnaturally glassy her eyes were. The dark, half-moons under her eyes were more prominent too. The younger witch didn't look well at all.

"When was the last time you ate?" he asked with a frown.

"Hmm?" she absentmindedly asked, grabbing onto the toffee and removing it from its wrapper. "Yesterday dinner, I think."

" _What_?!" he exclaimed. "Lunch time is almost over, Whiskers. You have to eat."

She dismissively waved the toffee in the air. "I'm eating," she interjected, popping the toffee inside her mouth. The brunette instantly closed her eyes and expelled a soft, little sigh that made his head spin. Her face was a picture of pure bliss and James found his throat drying up at the sight. His lower abdomen twitched uncomfortably and horrified, he immediately looked away lest he started conjuring sinful thoughts.

"What are you doing here?" she asked after some chewing and sucking.

James took a deep, shuddering breath and glanced upward, thinking that life was being purposively cruel to him.

"Never mind why I'm here," he said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. After composing himself, he glanced back at Hermione and frowned. "You haven't been taking care of yourself."

She mirrored his frown. "I might have skipped some meals today but I'm still taking care of myself," she cried defensively.

James sighed and pulled out the chair across from Hermione. She stared at him dubiously but he ignored her and instead grabbed onto her colour-coded schedule. As his eyes scanned the parchment, they steadily grew in incredulity. "Do you want to die early?" he ground out.

Affronted, she immediately snatched her schedule away and hugged it against her chest. "What's wrong with my schedule?" she petulantly asked.

"What is wrong— are you _kidding_ me?" James scanned the library, trying to catch any sign of the fiery redhead he'd come to like for the past couple of years. "Where's Lily? Or, Merlin, even _Snape_? Why aren't they supervising your studying?"

Hermione snorted. "I don't need any supervision," she hotly shot back. "And, as for my best friends… _well_ …" She frowned as realisation dawned. "Come to think of it, I don't know where they are either. Huh."

James could already feel a headache forming. His hand climbed up to his temples and rubbed to ease the pain. "There's no helping it then," he said with a humongous sigh. He leant back against his chair and pierced her with a glare. "Wrap everything up because you're going to the Great Hall to eat lunch, Pettigrew."

" _Later_ ," she replied with an eye roll. "I'm almost done _,_ promise. Besides, I'm not even that hungry. I ate some biscuits before coming to the library."

"Blimey, you're exasperating," he exclaimed. "How was Peter able to survive living with such a stubborn witch?"

The corner of her lips twitched upward. "I think about that too sometimes," she replied.

A laugh escaped from James's lips. "At this rate, you're going to die early, Hermione. No kidding," he said.

"Nobody would die just because they're studying hard," she pointed out.

James unabashedly snorted. "I wouldn't be surprised if you were the first one to achieve that."

**-ooo-**

Hermione's studying had stretched out way beyond lunch time. James was thankful he had eaten something before seeking out the brunette. He tried to persuade her once more that she should at least take a break, but Hermione had snapped at him that she wanted to finish her study schedule for today before she left the library. He had tried to be persistent, but Hermione had started waving her wand vigorously in his direction, threatening to hurtle another Bat-Bogey Hex his way.

Knowing it was futile, James sighed and left her alone. It seemed like Hermione wasn't done yet, and he decided he should at least get himself preoccupied whilst waiting for her, by finishing his homework.

"I'm going to get my things," he told her. "Might as well finish my Potions essay."

"Hmm?" she distractedly said, her eyes not leaving the parchment on the table as she furiously scribbled away. Her eyebrows were knitted together in deep concentration, creases on her forehead already. She was relentlessly nibbling her bottom lip and he swore her hair had grown more voluminous since he came in a few hours ago.

"Merlin, you're mental," he sighed, standing up from his seat with a bemused smile on his face. "Don't die while I'm gone, Hermione."

"All right," she deadpanned and he knew full well that his words hadn't even registered in her overactive brain.

James snickered and slipped out of the library.

As he continued his short trek towards the Gryffindor Tower, James remembered he still hadn't consulted Hermione about the Valentine's Day plan he was going to pull that night. He already had this inkling she'd relentlessly berate him, because honestly, it was a bit ridiculous now that he properly thought about it. The corners of his mouth twitched into a smile, already imagining how her curls would increase in volume by her sheer, crackling magic. Merlin, she was definitely terrifying when she wanted to be. And mesmerising too, thinking how he was sometimes unable to look away from her.

Catching his thoughts, James's eyebrows slowly knitted together in bothersome confusion. He would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about Hermione often since the start of the school-year. Although their study sessions had lessened since she was busy with her OWLs, James usually found himself unintentionally seeking her out on the Ravenclaw table, wondering if she had finally taken a break and eaten her meals on time. He had even sometimes found himself sauntering into the library, his hazel eyes scanning for her bushy curls, wondering if she remembered that curfew was approaching.

It was disconcerting, to say the least, because he couldn't seem to get her out of his head. He still found Lily Evans unbelievably pretty, of course. Since she came back from summer, she'd grown more beautiful, her form already moulded into a certain feminine softness that even the other wizards couldn't help but to look at. But Hermione… Hermione's hair looked rich and golden brown, her eyes still clear and bright like the blue skies he loved so much, and he often found himself trying to connect the freckled dots on her nose, wondering what image he could conjure.

He was grateful the redhead kept on sitting beside Hermione, because he now had a decent excuse as to why he kept on looking at the Ravenclaw table during meal times. He was grateful Lily sometimes kept Hermione company while studying in the library, because he then had a decent excuse as to why he kept on visiting the library.

At night, whilst he laid awake on his bed and stared unseeingly up at the canopy, there was a ridiculous voice - tiny and easily trampled down - that would mercilessly tease him that perhaps, _perhaps_ , pursuing Lily Evans was already a waste of time.

That perhaps, _perhaps_ he didn't like Lily Evans anymore.

But it was so preposterous! And before the voice grew boisterous and persistent, James would firmly tell himself that his Lily flower was the only person in his heart. There wasn't room for anyone else, no matter how ridiculously bushy her hair was, or how soft and warm her pink, _pink_ lips…

' _No, no, not that again,'_ he moaned internally. One thing he still secretly repeated in his mind, over and over and over again, was the feeling of her lips pressed against his. He knew it was brief since he was the one who had immediately pulled away, but those brief seconds had shaken him to his very core and it was _insane_. That, added with the traitorous memory of her happily eating the toffee, emitting little breathy sighs and sounds of wondrous delight that should be _bloody fucking_ illegal, meant trouble.

His thoughts were interrupted when fiery red hair and emerald eyes caught his attention. His mind registered it was Lily and he distractedly greeted her with a small smile and a "Hey, Evans."

It was only when he reached the end of the corridor when he realised _it was Lily Evans_ who had passed by him. James skidded to a halt and turned around, her name on the tip of his tongue, but he clamped his lips tight when Lily was also looking at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

The redhead slowly narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Are you brewing a huge prank or something?" she asked with a frown.

"What? No!" he exclaimed almost immediately.

The suspicion on her face was completely replaced by confusion. "No?" she echoed, her eyebrows now knitting together. "Are you sick, Potter?"

He could feel his cheeks heating up. " _No_ ," he hotly replied, trying to come up with some obnoxious love declaration for the pretty redhead across from him. But strangely, his head was still too muddled with thoughts of Hermione that he couldn't come up with a decent, cheesy pick-up line.

Lily now looked downright flabbergasted as her jaw dropped. James felt uncomfortable under her gaze and was about to say goodbye, when Lily said, "Will this strange behaviour of yours continue?"

He felt mightily confused, so all he could do was nervously smile. "I don't know," he said, his hand climbing up to rub the nape of his neck. "I hope it won't."

"I hope it will," the redhead interjected with a laugh. "This is honestly _infinitely_ better than your previous behaviour, you bloody toerag."

Lily then cocked her head to the side and observed him once more. James realised this was perhaps the longest conversation they had ever had, without him declaring his undying love for her and her telling him to piss off. "Later, Potter."

She then turned on her heel and walked away, her bright, red hair swaying prettily on her back.

James stared and waited for the fireworks. He stared a little longer, a little harder, and waited for the fuzziness in his brain to appear, or the wild fluttering in his heart.

But they were gone, _all_ gone, and James found himself gaping at her back in disbelief.

**-ooo-**

The journey back to the Gryffindor Tower was a blur for James. His mind was still filled with the startling revelation that he didn't like Lily Evans anymore. He was just thankful he didn't see any familiar faces along the way, because he sure as hell knew he wouldn't be able to answer any questions coherently.

James stopped right at the doors of the library and sighed. He removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, willing himself to stop thinking for now. There would be plenty of days to ponder these things. For now, he just wanted to finish his essay in peace.

He blindly meandered through the tables and walked towards the direction of Hermione's table. He only wore his glasses once more when her blurry, bushy hair was nearer.

He came to a sudden halt when he realised Hermione was fast asleep. Her head was buried on her arms, her face directed away from the window. Her bushy curls were splayed messily on top of the table and there was this errant curl that kept on brushing against her nose. Hermione's face scrunched up, obviously uncomfortable.

James sighed in relief since she finally had her much-needed break. He quietly placed his things on top of the table and was about to sit down on the chair, when he noticed that Hermione was _really_ annoyed by the strand brushing against her face.

The Gryffindor scanned the room to see if anyone would see what he was about to do. After realising he and Hermione were practically alone in the library, James crept closer to the brunette and crouched down so his eyes were level with her sleeping face.

He gingerly grasped the curl and brushed it behind her ear. Her face instantly cleared, the discomfort gone, and James found himself unable to stop a ridiculous grin from growing.

Up close, he was able to see her freckles and realised that if he had observed long enough, the dots could create the constellation, Cassiopeia. Her thick lashes brushed gently against the top of her cheek and her lips were slightly parted, blowing puffs of air that warmed his cheek.

His grin faltered as his finger unconsciously fell on her cheeks and traced Cassiopeia. Hermione released a breathy sigh that made him thickly swallow. His eyes were then magnetised to her pink lips, and the feeling of pressing his own lips against them resurfaced in his mind once more. They looked as soft and warm as they had felt and what if… what if he leant just close enough and found out if they still felt the same…

He withdrew as if electrocuted.

The fireworks. The staring. The fuzziness. The fluttering.

All of them drew up like a tidal wave as he shakily stood up and sat on the chair across from the slumbering brunette.

All the _feelings_ he had been expecting to appear when looking at Lily Evans a while ago were present right _now_ , all evoked by merely staring at Hermione's face. These feelings were quite different too, because the feelings he had felt for Lily always appeared gradually, stacking up one after the other, until he couldn't stop looking at her.

But with Hermione, they all drew up in a single force, drowning him deeper and deeper until he couldn't breathe and he had no choice but to stay still and let them wash over him and bring him back to shore.

He knew something in him had changed ever since he'd seen her taking care of Remus back at the Potter Manor. A change that grew monumental when he had given her that unintended kiss in front of the bonfire. And James had tried to dismiss the feelings away because they didn't make sense at all. Lily made _sense_ , so he had latched onto his feelings for her and obsessively come up with new plans to woo the redhead.

But now, with his feelings for Lily simmered down into polite admiration… with his feelings for _Hermione_ wreaking havoc in every recess of his body, James finally silenced everything inside him and listened intently to that tiny voice whispering words that finally made sense.

' _You like Hermione,'_ it mercilessly teased. The voice grew louder and louder, until it was thunderous and its words were the only thing he could hear.

James shakily leaned his chin on top of his upturned palm and stared disbelieving at the oblivious, slumbering, _breath-taking_ witch.

He liked Hermione Pettigrew.

 _Bloody fucking hell_ , Peter was going to kill him.

**-ooo-**

Hermione bolted upright, realising she wasn't reading. Panicked, she glanced at the textbook in front of her and only marginally calmed down when she noted she had finished her study coverage for the day.

A soft yawn tore away from her lips as she glanced outside, surprised that it was already night time.

"Had a good nap?"

She flinched in surprise as her blue eyes landed on the wizard sitting opposite her. James was idly scratching words on parchment, his eyes trained intently on his essay. Hermione was a bit surprised he had stayed and had actually diligently done his homework. She honestly expected him to be gone and to have left her alone, especially when she was tetchy a while ago.

"How long was I asleep?" she asked, rubbing sleep out of her right eye.

"Long enough to cure your headache," was his mere answer.

She suspiciously glanced at him, noting how the corner of his mouth twitched into a small smile. James, however, still hadn't looked up from the parchment.

Hermione reluctantly tore her gaze away from him and looked at her watch. She noted it was already seven in the evening.

"Have you eaten dinner?" she asked.

James quietly shook his head.

The brunette thoughtfully nibbled her lower lip and glanced at her colour-coded schedule. She still had one essay to finish today and she could really finish it fast if she put her mind into it. But she was admittedly hungry, and she doubted that James would leave the library if she chose to stay. Despite her skipping meals, she didn't want her friends doing that too.

"I'm hungry," she announced, already coming to a decision. James's quill stilled. "We should get dinner."

"All right," he answered as he pulled out his wand and waved their things away. He stood up from his seat and grasped both of their bags. "Come on."

Hermione looked at his back in confusion, wondering why he was suddenly acting all distant. She dispelled such thoughts when her stomach started protesting.

He was silent as they journeyed towards the Great Hall. Hermione debated whether she should initiate some small talk, but thought otherwise in the end. Although her mind was clearer this time after her well-deserved nap, she didn't trust herself from spouting words to James that might fluster her.

The Great Hall was already abuzz with hungry students when they arrived. Hermione blinked in amazement, noting the silly red and pink hearts strewn across the walls. There were zooming cupids in the air, crooning love songs she didn't recognise.

"Right, Valentine's Day," she unconsciously murmured, rolling her eyes when she spied house-elves running around and giving away one-stemmed red roses.

Hermione was about to bid him goodbye and walk towards the Ravenclaw table, but James steered her towards the Gryffindor table instead.

"Hermione!" Sirius exclaimed. "You're still alive!"

"Of course I am," she sighed with a petulant frown. Her eyes landed on the table, prompting her nose to scrunch up in disgust. There were overflowing chocolate fondues with various biscuits and fruits surrounding them. There were heart-shaped meat pies, pink pumpkin juices, and other Valentine's Day-themed food served on the table. "The house-elves sure didn't hold back."

"I love Valentine's Day the most," Sirius declared with a dramatic sigh.

From beside him, Remus snorted. "Of course you would, you wanker," the werewolf said, shoving Sirius away when his arm obscured his vision of his plate.

"Hey, James," Peter started, "what about your plan for Lil—"

"Your sister hasn't eaten since breakfast," James then said, cutting Peter off from whatever he was saying.

A chorus of horrified 'what!' erupted in their group, and three pairs of arms were suddenly pulling her down on the Gryffindor bench.

"Hermione," Peter reprimanded, worry in his eyes. "You should really take care of yourself!"

"You can't skip meals, Whiskers," Sirius tutted, already grabbing a plate and piling various kinds of food onto it for her to devour. "Your brain also needs food, blimey."

"Breaks are important," Remus sighed, filling her glass with the ridiculous pink pumpkin juice. "You can't afford to pass out during your OWLs, you know."

Hermione softly laughed at their mothering, her heart warming in fondness for their obvious worry for her. "I'm fine, guys, honest," she said, grabbing onto her utensils to start digging into her meat pie. Peter kept on cajoling her to take another bite. Remus kept on refiling her glass. Sirius kept piling food onto her plate. James was strangely silent the whole time, but his lips were stretched into a warm smile.

To her dismay, however, he still hadn't looked at her.

By the time she was full, most of the students were already retiring back to their dormitories. The house-elves were starting to vanish the flying cupids and the heart streamers.

"Don't you dare go back to the library," her brother warned, hauling her gently onto her feet. James still had her bag hanging on his shoulders. The Marauders had formed a ridiculous circle around her, barring her from escaping.

"I still have an essay to finish," she grumbled.

"I'm sure the deadline isn't tomorrow," Remus guessed with a slightly exasperated smile. "You'll live if you skip it tonight, Hermione."

"But—" Four glares glanced her way, prompting Hermione to sigh in defeat. "Fine," she said. "I'm going to retire to my dormitories then."

"Good kitten," Sirius said, reaching forward to pat the crown of her head. She batted his arm away with a small scowl.

" _Shite_!" Peter suddenly exclaimed, drawing to a halt. He directed his huge, blue eyes to James. "We forgot about your Valentine's plan for Lily!"

Sirius and Remus also paused in their walking and glanced at James, looks of panic on their faces.

James nervously ruffled his hair and smiled tentatively at his friends. "It was stupid anyway," he deliberately said. "There's always next time."

"Aww, but we put so much effort into it," Sirius complained.

Remus snorted. "Which would still go to waste if Evans chose to storm away," he pointed out, as Peter nodded his head to concur.

Hermione wondered what this elaborate plan had been, that required so much effort from the Marauders, and why in Merlin's rotting teeth James had chosen not to execute it. He had never really paused to think whether his plans were stupid or not before.

She sneaked another glance at James, but as usual, he wasn't looking at her.

The boys were gracious enough to escort her back to the Ravenclaw Tower. Sirius and Remus were already busy cracking the riddle spoken by the eagle-shaped door knocker as Peter drew her into a tight hug and warned her to take everything easy.

"Here," James said, sliding the strap of her bag off his shoulder to extend it towards her.

"Thanks," she murmured, pulling her bag away. She tentatively glanced at him once more and was surprised to see that James was finally looking at her. His eyes almost looked brown under the dim lights of the corridor. James was wearing a small, warm smile on his face when he bid her good night and turned on his heel.

"Goodnight, Whiskers," Sirius murmured, playfully ruffling her hair, before swinging both of his arms over Remus and Peter's shoulders.

She shouted her good night and watched as they walked away.

Just before they disappeared around a corner, James looked over his shoulder and gave her a secret smile that made her breath hitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very gentle reminder that this story is still slow burn-y so prepare to be a bit frustrated hehe. But yay, look at that, James finally stopped being in denial! 
> 
> Next chapter wraps up Hermione's fifth year! Now, we can finally move on to her sixth year and oh boy, what a wild year it will be.
> 
> That's it for now! I love you all so much. You've been really kind with your words and it warms my heart. And I especially love love love hearing about how you find time to read my updates during your breaks. It's insane how diverse your backgrounds and careers are! I hope you're all happy, healthy and safe. Y'all are the best! :) 
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes)! We can totally fangirl over there ahahahaha.


	19. chapter eighteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so yes, I actually can afford to update everyday :) You've all been really wonderful and your reviews brighten my day! This fic is currently my only joy amidst the chaos in this world. I hope you're all well!
> 
> Thank you so much to my Beta, lozipozivanillabean. She's already editing the chapters of this story's peak and had been freaking out, I think hahahah. Thank you for your effort huhu
> 
> Enjoy

* * *

**xviii.**

_**you take more than just my sanity** _

(One Sweet Love by Sara Bareilles)

* * *

**June 25, 1977**

Hermione luxuriously stretched her arms overhead as she stepped out of Hogwarts castle. The warm, summer breeze blew against her flushed cheeks and she allowed herself to finally, _finally_ relax for the first time this school-year.

Their last OWL exam had just ended and the fifth years were all in a relieved mood. Blessedly, today was also Hogsmeade Day, so they could immediately celebrate in the said town. Hermione had promised to meet Lily and Sev at the Three Broomsticks to celebrate the end of her exams and truthfully, she had missed them so much. Her last few months had been spent in the library with Regulus and her Ravenclaw study partners; Lily and Sev scarcely accompanied her - for _unknown_ reasons - but Hermione didn't seem to mind. She knew they would have only worried themselves sick about her crazy studying, so she had opted to study with the fifth-year students instead.

Hermione's hand climbed to her neck and massaged the knots away. She briefly scanned the Hogwarts grounds in case she saw a familiar face, but most of the students had already gone to Hogsmeade.

"Pettigrew."

She craned her neck and smiled at Regulus, who had casually sauntered beside her. He'd already changed from his impeccable uniform and had donned casual grey robes that brought out the silver of his eyes. He was still terribly overdressed, but Hermione had never really seen him out of such extravagant clothes. She glanced at her own attire – simple Muggle flare jeans and a white, peasant top – and bit back a smile, knowing how uncomfortable Pureblood casual robes could be. The style in this time was weird, but Hermione couldn't deny how comfortable and flowy everything was. She instantly fell in love with flare jeans, since it allowed her legs to _breathe_. She could still remember the uncomfortable jeans she had to wear during their hunt for the horcruxes.

"How did you do in your OWLs?" he amicably asked, falling into step with Hermione. His head was tilted towards her, but his eyes were staring straight ahead.

Hermione deftly shrugged. "I can't be too sure," she slowly started, "but I think I did well."

A small smirk appeared on the Slytherin's face. "No doubt you'll get all 'O's," he pointed out.

"You can't possibly know that," she retorted back. Though, she did far better in her Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL this year, so he might actually be right.

"Please, humility doesn't suit you, Pettigrew," Regulus said with a small laugh. "With that huge brain of yours, you should be flaunting it and smothering people with inane facts only you apparently know."

Hermione rolled her eyes but wasn't able to stop the corner of her lips from lifting. "I bet you did well yourself," she replied.

"Hmm, we'll see about that," he said, tightly pursing his lips. He was wearing his usual indifferent mask but Hermione could feel his nervousness regarding the results. "Anyway, are you going to Hogsmeade?"

She nodded her head and started to gather her voluminous hair in one hand. It was sweltering hot and she wished she could at least wear short skirts or even shorts in this timeline. But then again, the fashion was still obstinate in the Wizarding World and she would be most likely be frowned at if she showed too much skin.

Hermione once again threw a glance at Regulus's robes and scrunched her nose. "It's ridiculously hot," she said, now tying her hair into a high ponytail. "Why are you even wearing robes?"

He looked honestly confused by her question. "What is wrong with my robes?" he cautiously asked. Regulus started smoothing it down, trying to remove any invisible creases and lint on his impeccable clothes. "I always wear these kinds of clothes on weekends."

The brunette sighed. "Purebloods wear really stuffy clothes," she grumbled, remembering the funeral dress robes she had to wear to attend Sev's mother's funeral. "You're going to Hogsmeade, too, yeah?"

He gave his head a slight tilt. "Say, Pettigrew," he casually started, "maybe you'd fancy having a butterbeer with me today?"

Hermione's eyes slightly widened and she looked back at him. Regulus was once again staring straight ahead, but his cheeks had gone splotchy red. "Oh," she started, "well—"

"As just acquaintances," he quickly added, glancing at her from the corner of his eyes.

The brunette smiled. "You mean as friends?" she corrected.

"Think whatever you want, Pettigrew," he said, the smirk back on his face. He stood a little taller and squared his shoulders, exuding casual confidence that seemed out-of-place during such a relaxing day. "So, will you do me the honour?"

Hermione awkwardly rubbed her cheek and grimaced. "Sorry," she said. "But I promised I'd spend the day with Lily and Sev. I miss them, too, since I was too swamped with OWLs and I haven't spent much time with them."

"Oh," he breathed out, his shoulders slumping a little with dejection. "I – no matter." He gave her another sideways glance as a small smile he rarely showed to people now pasted on his face. "There are still plenty of Hogsmeade Days in the future."

"Yes," Hermione said with a nod. "Maybe we can go to one next school-year as friends."

"As acquaintances," Regulus corrected, his smile growing.

"Merlin, just say that we're friends like a normal human being," Hermione pointed out with a laugh. "You sound like some Wizengamot judge sitting on a coveted Sacred Twenty-Eight seat."

"If you have forgotten, I am an heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black," he reminded, his smile still on his face. "That comparison of yours isn't too farfetched."

A snort escaped from her mouth. "How could I forget when it's something you've constantly yammered about?" she asked.

Regulus's eyes brightened with amusement. Hermione had never seen him this relaxed before and it was actually quite refreshing to see the usually serious and stuffy Pureblood heir having fun.

The Slytherin accompanied her on the carriage ride towards Hogsmeade and conversed with her about all the random topics under the sun. Along the way, Hermione noticed surprised looks on his fellow Slytherin Housemates when their thestral-drawn carriage passed by them.

"The other Slytherins are staring," Hermione blurted out.

The relaxed expression he had been sporting drew into a dark, serious look. There was a hardness in his grey eyes she'd often seen him wear when he was not in a particularly chatty mood, and would furiously write on his parchment like his life depended on it. "Let them stare," he hissed under his breath. She noted how his hands curled into fists, prompting her to frown.

"Are they giving you a hard time because of me?" she tentatively asked.

Briefly, surprise flitted his eyes before he once again hid behind his mask of indifference. "Don't be ridiculous, Pettigrew," he said. "I wouldn't let anyone step out of line. I am the _heir_ to the Most—"

"—Ancient and Noble House of Black. Yes, yes, I know," she said, her frown deepening when he gave her a quick smirk. "They seemed surprised to see you accompanying me, though. Are you sure they're not giving you a hard time?"

"They wouldn't dare," he scoffed, looking every bit like an arrogant Slytherin Pureblood. "Don't concern yourself over the matters of my House. You're just wasting your time."

Hermione swallowed down her remaining questions and instead silently glanced at the brooding Slytherin beside her. She remembered her Ravenclaw friends pointing out that Regulus couldn't afford to be caught associating with someone other than a Pureblood. She would be lying if she said she hadn't tried to think of a reason as to why he kept on pestering her.

Silence settled between them and Hermione silently wondered if she'd like to continue her friendship with Regulus. She was at first resolute this relationship would be purely based on their mutual desire to do well in their OWLs and Hermione was fine with that at first. But, as she had gotten to spend more time with the Slytherin, she had gotten to know sides of him that made him a tolerable and quite witty companion. He reminded her of Viktor sometimes; gruff and broody from some angles, but who could be sweet and kind if he wanted to. It didn't surprise her anymore when she started considering him as a friend, because he was pleasant company.

As they reached the border of Hogsmeade, Hermione firmly told herself she'd ponder more about her continuing friendship with Regulus Black once they had returned for the next school-year.

The Slytherin bid her goodbye and disappeared amongst the crowd. Hermione made a quick stop at Honeydukes and bought Chocolate Frogs for Lily and assorted sweets for Sev. She also grabbed a few toffees for herself and left the sweet shop with less money, but more sweets in hand.

When she entered the Three Broomsticks, she immediately spotted her friends. They were crammed into a booth at the very back of the pub. For a while, she thought they were _too_ closely seated than normal, but brushed that thought away when Lily saw her and broke into a huge smile.

"She's alive!" the redhead happily declared, jumping down from the bench and engulfing Hermione into a bone-crushing hug. "I missed you so much, Hermione. You have _no_ idea."

"I have an inkling," the brunette said, half-gasping and half-chuckling as she pulled Lily's tight arms around her. Her blue eyes landed on a smirking Sev and she smiled. "How have you been, Sev?"

He merely waved his hand dismissively and didn't give her a reply. Instead, his dark eyes were glued on the Honeydukes bag in her hand. "What sweets did you buy?" he asked, trying to look nonchalant.

Lily rolled her eyes and plopped on the chair across from Severus. "Look how he's trying to curb his excitement over new sweets, Hermione," the redhead said with a laugh.

Hermione snorted when Sev's face turned red with embarrassment. "Shut up, Lily," he grumbled.

The brunette slid down on the bench beside the older witch and smiled. "I bought you some Chocolate Frogs, Lily," she said, fishing the said sweets from the bag to pass to the redhead. Then, to Sev, she said, "I bought you as many as humanely possible."

Hermione laughed when Sev's eyes lit up. She grabbed her toffees before passing the whole bag to the excited Slytherin. Severus immediately perused his new sweets and ignored the witches all together.

"How were your OWLs?" Lily then asked. "And don't you dare tell me you're not so sure and we should just wait for your grades, because you and I both know you've done well. _Very_ well, actually. Which is why I don't know why I asked you that stupid question in the first place."

Hermione wound her arms around the vivacious girl. "I missed your incessant chattering, Lils," she sighed, snuggling her head against Lily's neck. "The library was too quiet."

"You were spending an awful lot of time with your Ravenclaw friends," Severus pointed out once the witches had settled back on their seats. "And _Regulus Black_." The Slytherin grimaced and pinned Hermione with a glare. "Why are you still spending time with him? I told you he's bad news, Hermione."

"He wasn't all bad," she quickly defended. "He was actually a decent study partner. Almost as good as you and Lils."

To her surprise, Sev groaned. "He hangs out with people like Crouch and Rosier," he ground out through gritted teeth. "Those blokes are bad news, too. _No_ , they're _terrible_ news because they dabble with magic that should be deemed illegal in this school."

"How the hell do you know that?" the redhead cried, eyes a little wide.

Severus grew serious. "Hermione, I mean it, stay away from Black," he growled.

Hermione swallowed down the sudden panic that rose up from her stomach. In the confines of the library, it was easy to forget Regulus's future. He was tolerable and intelligent, able to pick her brain on topics that interested her. But she knew that after the end of their OWLs, the reality of his future would soon catch up with her. Even before Sev had told her, she initially had every intention of staying away from him. But, after spending so much time with him, of conversing with him, even _knowing_ a part of him that he sometimes reluctantly, _unknowingly_ , showed to her, she knew it would be too damn difficult to look away.

She cursed herself mentally because she always knew it would end up this way. Hermione, no matter what universe or timeline she was in, always cared. _Too_ much, if she was being honest herself. Because if she didn't care too much, then she would have walked away from both Harry and Ron even before danger caught up with them. If she didn't care too much, she would have stayed silent at home, distanced herself from Peter Pettigrew who grew up to be the brother she loved as much as life itself. If she didn't care too much, then she wouldn't be best friends with Lily and Severus and the Marauders and… and _James_.

Hermione suddenly found herself unable to breathe properly.

" _Live a happy life, Hermione,"_ Harry had told her before he died. He told her to live a happy life, no matter where she was brought into, because she deserved it… because _he_ wanted her to. But if living a happy life meant she had to protect those she had come to care about, then, could Hermione really turn a blind eye when things started to become too heavy, too dangerous… too _painful_?

Perhaps, Hermione was really cursed to be entangled with people who would have a huge role during this war. Their primary intention with brewing the suspicious potion was to run away from it all. What if the universe didn't want Hermione to run away after all? What if, with a new chance at life in a different timeline with a different name and body all together, meant Hermione could alter the future so it would be devoid of pain and suffering?

"Hermione?" Lily's voice broke through her panicked haze. "Are you all right?"

Her blue eyes focused on the redhead's worried green eyes, comforting herself once more that these were Harry's eyes she was looking at. "Yeah," she breathed out. She glanced at Severus, who looked suddenly worried himself, and forced herself to smile. "Sorry. I'm still exhausted from OWLs." Severus opened his mouth, but Hermione took a sharp intake of breath and pierced him with a glare, " _And_ , you have no right to dictate who I associate myself with. I can take care of myself, Sev."

His hand clenched into a tight fist. "You don't understand," he claimed. "You might get hurt if you continue associating with him."

She knew that, even when she reluctantly agreed to be his study partner for this school year. But, Hermione also knew that there was always a lingering thought in the back of her mind whenever she continued spending time with both Lily and Sev, or when she'd hug Peter tight, or when she'd stare at James Potter's back a little too long.

A wry smile grew on her face. Maybe she was an emotional masochist, trained by a relentless war to endure pain and to continue trudging on.

"Sev, shut up," Lily said, leaning forward to swat his arm reproachfully. "Hermione's obviously tired. Why don't you be a proper gentleman and buy us some drinks, yeah?"

Severus deflated and hesitantly looked at Hermione, knowing his interjections would fall on deaf ears. Hermione gave him an apologetic smile, appreciating that he had at least tried.

"Fine," he gruffly said. "Be right back." He stood up from his seat and walked towards the counter.

"Are you really all right?" Lily asked, touching her elbow for comfort. "Severus is a berk, you know that, but I think he means well."

"I know," Hermione said with a sad smile.

Lily drew her into a hug again and sighed. "I also feel a little uncomfortable with your friendship with Regulus Black, if I'm being honest," she haltingly started. "But, I trust your judgment, Hermione. I know you try to see the good in everybody even though they're hopeless cases. I mean, _Merlin_ , I still don't understand how you can tolerate talking with Potter when he's been an utter toerag for the past few years."

Hermione laughed. "What does that even mean?" she asked.

The redhead sheepishly smiled and pulled away. "I'm not entirely sure," she confessed. "But it's what I started calling Petunia when she kept on calling me a 'freak'."

The Ravenclaw's eyes softened, but Lily merely laughed. "I'm honestly over that already," she said a tad eagerly. "I think the real reason why the three of us have stuck together is because of our mutual dislike for our childhood days."

"Mine wasn't all bad," Hermione said with a soft smile.

"Your mother's lovely," Lily said in agreement. "And at least your brother is _Peter_. He's the least threatening of the four."

"Too right," the brunette answered with a reverent nod.

While they waited for Severus, the two witches fell into a comfortable conversation revolving around the random things that had happened in the past few days.

While Lily was recounting her disastrous attempt to change Marlene's hair colour, a butterbeer was suddenly slid in front of Hermione. Lily's words died down and both witches looked up, only to see James Potter standing in front of their table.

He looked a bit nervous, but Hermione wasn't entirely sure why. She glanced at the butterbeer in front of her and wondered if James had made a mistake by giving it to her instead.

Frowning, she gripped the neck of the bottle and started to slide it towards Lily, but James suddenly leant forward and gripped the bottle too. Hermione instantly drew her hand back when she felt his finger brush unintentionally against hers.

"It's yours," he said, noting the confusion on her face. "I did promise to treat you to a butterbeer before." James then flashed her a lopsided grin and ran a hand through his hair, making it stick in different directions. "How were your OWLs?"

"They were fine," she slowly said. She looked at Lily in confusion before glancing back at James.

Hermione waited for a sudden burst of love declaration, or even for James to look at _Lily_ , who was sitting right beside her. But he didn't look away and instead focused all of his attention on her. "Are you all right, James?" she slowly asked as her eyebrows knitted in suspicion.

"Why do people keep on asking me that?" James asked in slight exasperation. This only deepened Hermione's frown.

Lily burst into soft chuckles. "I asked him the same question once," she pointed out, a huge grin stretched on her face.

Hermione briefly glanced at Lily, who looked like she wasn't going to scat soon. Her confused blue eyes latched onto the butterbeer once more and she blurted out, "You didn't buy one for Lily?"

James looked surprised. "Err, I didn't," he said, awkwardly rubbing his nape. He tentatively glanced at Lily. "Should I buy you one, too?"

"That wasn't what I meant," Hermione grumbled when Lily slightly shook her head.

"PRONGSIE!"

The three students flinched in surprised at the sudden shout across the busy pub. Some of the people inside paused in their conversation and gaped at the boisterous Sirius Black, who was quickly meandering through the throngs of people, Remus and Peter exasperatedly trailing behind.

"Merlin, do you really have to shout, Sirius?" James asked with a bemused smile.

"Why did you suddenly bolt away like your life depended on it?" Sirius whined, swinging an arm over James's shoulders. "We were in the middle of a prank, honestly."

Instead of answering, James turned a brilliant shade of red and glanced away. Sirius by then, had noticed the two witches seated on the booth and threw a meaningful glance at Lily. The Gryffindor redhead glowered in return.

"Whiskers, hi," Sirius greeted, his grey eyes landing on Hermione. "How were your OWLs?"

"She did great, I'm sure," Peter piped in before Hermione could answer. "I bet she got all 'O's in her OWLs."

"You can't know that for sure," she interjected.

Her brother cocked a challenging eyebrow. "A yearlong supply of toffees if you actually did," he said.

Hermione grinned, unable to resist the temptation of her favourite sweets. "Deal," she said.

"And if she doesn't?" Remus asked.

The Pettigrew siblings shared a look. "She'll be the one to wash the dishes for the rest of our lives while we're still living together under the same house," Peter suggested.

" _Figures_ , you'd want something like that," Hermione pointed out with a laugh. "Fine."

It was at that moment Severus chose to come back, a hovering tray with three bottles of butterbeer and chips behind him.

Hermione still found it mildly amusing how the five boys would simultaneously grimace at the sight of each other. But, surprisingly, their public banters had been reduced to merely silently glaring at each other. No wands were brandished, no goadings, _nothing_. Hermione was just glad that after the whole werewolf debacle, the Marauders did actually stop going out of their way to torment her best friend.

"We've got to go, Jamesy-boy," Sirius said, clutching onto James's arm to pull him away from the group. "We still have a prank to do, remember?"

"Don't do anything stupid," Hermione warned with a frown.

The identical, scheming grins on their faces prompted her to roll her eyes. "Never mind," she added. "I'm sure you already did."

"You know us very well," James teased, his hazel eyes glinting with trouble only he and his friends could actually pull off.

The four Marauders bid their goodbyes and Hermione waited for James to blurt out some parting love declaration for Lily. But _still_ , James only gave Lily a small smile and left with his friends.

"You already bought a butterbeer," Sev snapped, annoyed.

"No, James gave it to me."

This surprised the Slytherin. "For _you_?" he asked, surprise in his voice. His eyes scanned the table briefly before glancing at Lily. "And none for you?"

The redhead shook her head.

Now, Severus looked very confused. "Is something wrong with Potter?"

Both witches burst into soft giggles. "We've been asking the same question, honestly," Hermione pointed out.

"Come to think of it, he's been really different since… I dunno, maybe Valentine's Day," Lily continued as Sev took a seat beside her. "The last time I had a conversation with him was that day, and he was out-of-it, like he was deeply disturbed by something I didn't know. I thought at first he was just too troubled to be his usual toerag self, but since then…" Lily lightly drummed her fingers on the wooden table. "He hasn't gone out of his way to pull off those ridiculous and obnoxious plans of his to woo me."

"It's a relief, if you ask me," Sev offered, prompting Lily to snort and vigorously nod her head to concur.

Hermione frowned in confusion and glanced at the butterbeer James had bought for her.

* * *

**June 30, 1977**

Hermione immediately flew into Anya's waiting arms when they spotted her at King's Cross.

"Tough year?" her mother warmly asked as she dropped a kiss on her bushy hair.

"She almost _killed_ herself by studying too much, Mum," Peter snitched, quickly clambering towards the mother-daughter pair whilst pulling both of their trunks.

Anya sighed and lightly glared at her daughter. "No studying this summer," her mother announced. Hermione's eyes widened in disbelief, but Anya was resolute. "I can't believe I'm banning studying, but you need to rest, sweetheart. Invite your best friends over, get out of the house, just no _studying_."

Hermione glowered at her sniggering brother. " _Fine_ ," she petulantly said. "I wasn't even planning to study at all, besides accomplishing my summer homework." She paused and frowned. "I can do that, though, right?"

Her mother pretended to think, the corner of her lips twitching. "Fine," she finally agreed.

Peter laughed and started scanning the train station in search of a familiar silver sedan. "Richard didn't come with you, Mum?" he asked with a frown.

To Hermione's surprise, Anya's cheeks dusted with pink. "Ah – well – I broke up with him," she casually said, unable to meet their eyes.

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. "What? Why?" her brother spluttered out, immediately wounding his arms around his mother. "You okay, Mum?"

Anya lightly laughed and waved her hand dismissively. "It wasn't working," she said with a grin. Hermione noted her mother wasn't that much affected by the end of her relationship, so that was a relief. "Besides, I knew you both didn't like him very much."

"That's not true," Hermione quickly protested, positively sure her cheeks had gained more colour too.

Their mother gave them a meaningful glance. "He was terribly dull," she flippantly said. "I kept on catching you stifling a yawn, Hermione."

"I wasn't trying to be obvious, I swear," the brunette said with a sheepish smile. "But, you're really okay, Mum?"

Anya expelled a deep sigh. "I think I'm over dating anyway," she said with a laugh. "I've wanted to do a lot of different things - ever since you both started Hogwarts. Maybe this is the time to do it, you know, since we are in the midst of terrible times."

Her face clouded with worry and Hermione remembered the news splattered on the latest issue of the Daily Prophet today. The attacks had increased and there were more deaths with unknown causes. Voldemort was growing restless, was all she could conclude.

"Besides," Anya said, pasting back the smile on her face, "I have two brilliant children to take care of. I don't need another person to take under my wing."

Hermione hugged her mother again and gave her a squeeze. "We want you to be happy, too, Mum," she said. Beside her, Peter nodded his head to concur.

Anya's eyes looked slightly shinier. "You both already make me so happy," she said with a sigh. Hermione smiled against her mother's shoulder and gave her another squeeze. "Now, come on. I've prepared a scrumptious meal for tonight."

Anya held both of their hands and directed them towards the Apparation spot. With a soft pop, the Pettigrew family went home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that wraps up Hermione's fifth year! I just needed a chapter to conclude her eventful fifth year hehe.
> 
> Buckle up, lads, because sixth year is a mess hahaha. Next chapter will be half-summer, half-start of sixth year so including that, Hermione's sixth year will span 11 chapters.
> 
> I really appreciate all your comments. I always get fuzzy feelings every time I get a review. I love you all. That's it for now! See y'all tomorrow :)
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes)


	20. chapter nineteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your reviews make me so warm and fuzzy inside. I know I'm shitty with responding, but do know that I read them all and they never fail to make me smile. 
> 
> To my new readers, hi, I update everyday. Have a virtual cookie!
> 
> Thank you so much to my Beta, lozipozivanillabean!
> 
> So, again, this chapter is half-summer, half-start of Hermione's sixth year (Marauders' seventh). Enjoy!

* * *

**xix.**

_**my memory is cruel** _

(Between the Lines by Sara Bareilles)

* * *

**August 5, 1977**

Hermione almost toppled over when Lily threw her arms around her. The younger witch laughed and pried Lily away, smiling brilliantly at how genuinely happy Lily was to see her. "Hello," she greeted. Her blue eyes landed on the boy behind her and she stared. "You've grown taller!"

"Hello to you too," Severus said, uneasily gazing around the empty street behind them. "Your street is…" He scrunched up his nose, unable to come up with a decent word. Finally, he settled with "… lively" and nervously ruffled his hair.

"It's _lovely_ ," Lily gushed out, also glancing at the potted daisies lining the Pettigrews' small, neat front yard. "Living in Cokeworth for years has been terribly depressing and dull. The bursts of colour and sunlight in your street is refreshing."

Hermione grinned and gestured them to come inside. After Anya's constant pestering for her daughter to just relax during the summer vacation, Hermione had finally thought of inviting her best friends over to make her mother happy. Anya had been bustling around the kitchen ever since she had announced that Lily and Sev would be coming over for a few days. Both Peter and Hermione knew it would be wise to keep out of the kitchen if they wanted to live.

Lily instantly sauntered towards the small table where framed pictures of the Pettigrew family were displayed. Hermione stifled a grin when Sev frowned at the still pictures, as if staring longer would make them move. Among the trio, it was Sev who had grown up in a Wizarding household after all. Besides, despite her Pureblood heritage, Anya wanted the infusion of anything Muggle in their home, after living as such when Timothy Pettigrew was still alive.

"I know I've said this before, but you really look like your mother," Lily pointed out as she lifted a brown picture frame showing a younger Anya and a six-year-old Hermione smiling widely at the camera.

"I get that a lot," Hermione answered with a smile.

"You really look like a _Selwyn_ ," Sev pointed out, prompting Hermione to grimace. "Anyone who's obsessed with Purebloods can clearly see the golden curls and blue eyes as a distinct trait of the Selwyns."

"They're not my family," she said with a flourished eye roll.

Sev merely shrugged and started to look around - thinly-veiled amusement and suspicion painted in his black eyes. "What's that?" he asked, pointing at a black box with different buttons on it. He leant down and pressed a random button. A news reporter suddenly appeared, prompting Severus to yelp in surprise and glance at Hermione with wild eyes. "What the _bloody_ hell is that?"

"A telly, Sev," Lily said with a laugh. "Think of it as different moving pictures strewn together to tell a story."

The Slytherin glanced at the television once more, this time with obvious fascination.

"Fancy some tea?" Hermione then asked. "I can prepare some in the kitchen." Lily nodded her head and smiled in thanks while Sev reluctantly glanced away from the television, this time showing a red carpet and various beautifully dressed Muggles strutting amidst blinding flashes of cameras.

The younger witch grinned and hooked arms with Sev, pulling him away. "I'll let you watch later, promise," she said.

Hermione brought her friends towards the kitchen, but stopped midway as she beheld the sight inside. Their table boasted various delicious meals, varying from meat and pasta and desserts, so much so that the table was almost over crowded. Towering pots and plates were deposited in the kitchen sink, some hovering mid-air while an invisible hand scrubbed them clean.

Amidst the chaos stood her mother, her favourite worn pink apron tied around her small waist. Anya's hair had grown voluminous due to the humidity, but her mother didn't seem to mind.

"Mum!" the brunette gasped. "What have you done?"

"Oh!" Anya exclaimed, swivelling around to glance at the newcomers. She beamed brightly at Hermione's best friends, who were both gaping in disbelief at the feast in front of them. "Hello Lily and Severus. I didn't know you had arrived." She absentmindedly wiped her hands against the apron and gestured at the table teeming with food. "Go on then. Don't be shy. I'm not done yet though, but I will be soon."

"Not done?" Hermione squeaked. "Mum, you've prepared enough food to feed a school!"

Her mother merely laughed and waved her hand dismissively. "Don't be ridiculous, darling," she clucked, striding forward to grasp both Lily and Sev's arms. "Come now, come sit down children. Severus! You've gotten thinner since the last time I saw you. You can't get out of your chair without gaining at least a pound!"

"Err…" The young wizard paled and allowed Anya to push him down on his chair.

"Mum!"

"I was kidding, darling," Anya said with a pretty smile. She then smiled kindly at the redhead and placed her on the empty seat beside Sev. "Lily, love, how are you?"

"I'm fine, Mrs. Pettigrew," she politely replied.

"Please, Anya will do," her mother said with a laugh. "I prepared a chocolate cake today. I may have placed some Chocolate Frogs inside, since Hermione told me they're your favourites."

Lily's cheeks matched her fiery, red hair. "Oh, thank you, that's very kind," she said once more, her smile almost blinding.

"Come now, Hermione, don't just stand there," Anya ushered. She then glanced around and frowned. "Where's your brother? PETER!"

Heavy footsteps from upstairs was heard. Her brother, who had grown taller _again_ over the summer, came bounding down the stairs. "I'm here, I'm he— _whoa_." He gaped at the overflowing food with wide eyes, before glancing at his mother. "Mum, you've prepared enough food to feed a school!"

Hermione snorted and sat on the chair beside Lily. "That's exactly what I told her," she pointed out. "I think Mum got a bit excited since we have visitors today."

"You never bring your friends home," Anya huffed as Peter took the last empty seat. "You've never brought your friends over either, Peter."

"Mum, trust me, it's for the best," Peter claimed with a laugh. "Sirius will mostly likely woo the magic out of you. Remus will be _cranky_ if it's – ah – _well_. And James will most probably brew up a prank that might make you ban him from coming over forever."

"Besides," Hermione added, "our house cannot handle four rowdy boys, Mum."

Anya sighed and smiled at their visitors. "Go on then, tuck in!" she claimed.

Peter smiled at Lily in greeting. "Lily, hello," he said. When his blue eyes landed on Sev, the smile faltered. "Sniv – _Snape_."

"Pettigrew," Sev coolly replied, before focusing his attention on slicing his roast beef.

Hermione and Anya exchanged amused glances. The younger witch had told her mother before about the rivalry between her best friend and the Marauders. Hermione had previously hesitated in inviting Severus over, because she was nervous he would only spend his whole stay snarling at Peter, which her brother would gladly return, no doubt. But the civility between them was surprising, albeit amusing, and Hermione was just thankful they wouldn't make this difficult at all.

Their oven suddenly dinged, bringing Anya to her feet. "Anyone want to taste my freshly-baked biscuits?"

"You made biscuits too?" Peter asked incredulously.

"And a new batch of chocolate chip cookies," Anya added.

Hermione chuckled and fondly looked at her beaming mother. "Mum, _honestly_." If Anya acted like this every time she brought over her friends, then Hermione made a mental note to invite Lily and Sev over as often as she could.

* * *

**August 6, 1977**

"Another movie?" Hermione asked as the credits rolled onto the screen. Lily moaned and buried her head under the throw pillows on the couch. Sev, on the other hand, glanced at Hermione with silent hope in his eyes. "All right, the sourpuss wants to watch another one."

"No more, please," Lily pleaded. "If I watch another movie, my head is going to burst open."

The brunette shifted on the couch and plopped her head down on top of Lily's lap. "Come on," Hermione cajoled. "Look at Sev. Have you ever seen him so engrossed before? The only time we see him like that is when he's brewing another one of his ridiculously complicated potions."

The redhead moaned again but didn't say anything in return. Hermione chuckled and started changing channels, in search for another movie they could watch. She browsed through different shows, of sitcoms and cooking shows and of various commercials that sold everything under the sun. Hermione had never really found it fun watching the television before, but since she was in a new timeline and things were different, she sometimes tried to watch it to compare shows with those shown in the 90's.

"Wait," Sev gravelly said.

Hermione immediately paused and knitted her eyebrows at the news that was flashing on the screen. Lily gasped, eyes growing wide as they watched a news reporter talk about the mass murder of a few Muggle families from a quaint street in Notting Hill. Although their bodies were censored, the media had no qualms showing how these bodies, about twenty or more, were lining the streets whilst spectators with horrified faces gathered at the sides. Cameras continuously flashed and reporters swarmed around, facing their respective cameras while they announced the unusual deaths.

"… said the cause of death was still unidentified," said the news reporter, a greying man with a terrible grimace on his face. "The coroner, however, insisted they all died the same way. It was said the victim's organ systems suddenly shut down without any underlying diseases. The youngest victim, a five-year-old girl, had no other reported diseases prior to her untimely death."

The screen then shifted to another news reporter at the crime scene with a trembling witness beside him. "… a strange mark overhead," the elderly woman sobbed. "It was green and I'm not sure but I think – I think there was a skull and a snake. Oh, it was horrible, _so_ horrible. They were good people. I don't know why this happened to them."

Severus took a sharp intake of breath. "The Dark Mark," he shakily murmured, his face growing as white as a sheet. "It was the Dark Mark."

"Voldemort's mark?" Lily whispered.

"Don't say his name!" the Slytherin hissed, his head whipping around so fast Hermione heard his neck crick. " _Never_ say his name."

"Why?" Hermione blurted out.

Sev slowly swivelled his head this time until his dark eyes were piercing Hermione's. "Just… _don't_ ," he said, looking tired all of a sudden.

"It's getting worse, isn't it?" the redhead asked, worry now painted on her pretty face. "I mean, I know he has always been a threat. And his band of followers – what are they called?"

"Death Eaters," Hermione gravelly murmured.

If it was more possible, Sev grew paler and stared intently at his hands.

"Yeah, them," Lily breathlessly said. Her green eyes were almost stark against her pale face. "I think the Daily Prophet isn't reporting the extent of the attacks, but I always felt that…" She bit her bottom lip and glanced at her feet. "… that you know, since he hates Muggleborns so much – people like _me_ – sometimes I worry if he'll get to me, to my _family_."

"I will _never_ let that happen!" Sev vehemently said, much to the surprise of the redhead.

Lily's eyes glistened with unshed tears as a shaky smile appeared on her face. "You are nothing against him, Sev, honestly," she lightly joked, but Hermione could see there was warmth behind her gaze.

"We have Dumbledore," he insisted, looking away from Lily once more, his cheeks suspiciously pink. "They said he is the only wizard You-Know-Who fears."

Hermione swallowed down her words, wanting to point out that even _Dumbledore_ was powerless to stop him in the future. With that thought, her panic flared into a blazing inferno and Hermione suddenly couldn't breathe. She quickly excused herself, lest she broke down in front of her friends, and went to the kitchen.

Her body brought her towards the refrigerator, and Hermione fumbled with the door handle. Images of the war, of turmoil and grief and pain and destruction, flashed before her eyes. She remembered all of the adventures she had gone on with Harry and Ron during their Hogwarts years, of how they had always luckily dodged death, secretly wondering when it would all end. She remembered the Battle at the Department of Mysteries, and the spell Antonin Dolohov had thrown her way - that would have killed her, if she hadn't had been fast enough to dodge it. She remembered Albus Dumbledore's lifeless eyes staring heavenward. She remembered the horcrux hunt, the Gringotts break-in, Bill and Fleur's wedding… She remembered the Battle of Hogwarts, the lives they'd lost. She remembered Ron – sweet, _sweet_ Ron – who'd she'd loved with all of her heart, eyes dull and unseeing.

And above all, she remembered Harry Potter, whose emerald eyes had dimmed as the war had stretched on. She remembered the hopelessness in them, the anger, the exhaustion, the resignation.

Her grip on the fridge door handle tightened, belatedly realising tears had now steadily started pouring down from her eyes. Sobs tore through her chest and she had to bite on her bottom lip hard so as not to alert the other people in the house.

She had always waited for a breakdown. After everything she had been through, Hermione had always anticipated there would come a day when everything that had happened to Hermione Granger would catch up with her, overwhelm her, _suffocate_ her, until it was hard for her to breathe. There were moments when she almost lost it, but then, she'd see a face she'd come to love in this timeline, and she'd latch onto them like an anchor, until their mere presence brought her back to earth.

But, after witnessing murders that were undoubtedly committed by Voldemort and his followers, because of their irrational hate for those who weren't like them, all those memories came back to her as a great tsunami. Hermione gulped down large amounts of air, afraid that she would drown from all the terror she had witnessed in the past. There was no anchor around her, and she was sinking and sinking, going farther away from the surface.

"Hermione?"

A mixture of a gasp and a sob tore away from her mouth as she swivelled around. Peter was standing at the doorframe, worry and uncertainty in his blue eyes. Hermione found herself able to properly breathe once more; at the same time, sobs poured out from her mouth.

"What's wrong?" Peter worriedly asked as he immediately went to her side. His blue eyes were clear with worry and fear, and Hermione just couldn't stop crying.

He wound his arms around hers and rubbed circles on her back, murmuring incoherent words she didn't bother to understand. Hermione grasped the back of his shirt, like he was the tightrope that would pull her back to the surface.

Peter held her for minutes, or maybe hours; Hermione wasn't sure. By the time her sobs had quietened into silent tears, her cheeks had coloured in embarrassment and horror at being caught breaking down.

"Will you tell me what just happened?" he asked, but the brunette was already shaking her head.

He pulled her away from his arms and peered down. "Hermione," he sternly said, "I told you that if you need anything, you can always come to me, yeah?"

She gave him a watery smile. "I– I'm sorry," she sniffed, haphazardly wiping her tears away. "I was just trying to search for a drink, and ah – well – we only have cheap soda and I don't like soda and—"

"You're bloody crying because of _cheap soda_?" Peter asked in bewilderment. "Maybe you're more mental than what I originally thought."

Hermione swatted his arm, prompting him to lightly glare in her direction.

His glare morphed into silent worry once more. "Are you really all right, Hermione?" he anxiously asked. "Did… did something happen between you and your best friends?" A frown bloomed on his face. "Did Snivellus—"

" _Severus_ ," she grounded out, "didn't do anything. And, I'm – well – I think I am all right now." She wiped away the remaining tears from her face and shakily smiled at her brother. "Don't worry about me now, Petey."

"Are you sure?" he dubiously asked. "You know that I'm going to James's manor tomorrow, but if you're not feeling well, maybe I can just skip that—"

"No, no, don't cancel," she insistently said. "You've been excited about this for days and I don't want you to ditch them." Peter opened his mouth to protest, but Hermione beat him to it. "I'm _fine_ , Peter. Besides, Lily and Sev will be with me tomorrow."

He still looked uncertain. "You sure?" he asked.

Hermione expelled a soft laugh and nodded. "Yes," she replied, pulling away from his arms. She then washed her face to remove any remnants of her breakdown. "Don't mind me now, Peter. Go pack your things because _surely_ you're still avoiding that and won't do it until the last minute."

"Ah, yes, she's bloody fine," he grumbled, rolling his eyes at her nagging.

The brunette merely smiled.

She was finally back on land, all thanks to her brother.

* * *

**August 7, 1977**

Peter strode out from the fireplace and brushed the soot from his shoulders. Even before he could place his bag down, loud footsteps from upstairs resounded around the lavish foyer of the Potter's Manor. His eyes widened when James ran down two steps at a time, and by the time he had landed on the last step, he was already panting, his face glowing red.

"Oh," James faltered and slowly frowned. "You're alone?"

A look of confusion appeared on Peter's face. "Um, yes," he said, lamely gesturing at himself.

The bespectacled wizard didn't meet his eyes as his hand climbed to the back of his neck. "Hermione didn't come with you?" he asked in a rush that Peter almost didn't catch it.

"No," Peter said, still mightily confused. "Lily and Snape came over a few days ago and Hermione's playing host. I didn't know you were expecting her."

"Oh," James repeated, slumping dejectedly as he trudged upstairs, his steps now slower and timid.

"Bloody hell, James!" Sirius exclaimed as he and Remus finally caught up with their best friend. "I didn't know you were that excited to see Wormtail."

The Potter heir merely sighed and pushed them away as he continued upstairs. Peter glanced at the other two questioningly, but both Sirius and Remus merely shrugged their shoulders, obviously confused with James's sudden demeanour.

"Come on, then," Remus said, ushering him upstairs.

Peter clambered up behind the two, casually asking them how they'd been during the summer. Sirius was busy recounting a particularly hilarious prank he and James had pulled with Euphemia a week ago, that had barred them from going into the Drawing Room until they returned to Hogwarts.

"James's parents are too lenient with your rowdiness," Remus tutted.

"They love James," Sirius pointed out with a laugh. "And _me_ , obviously. Of course, they'd let us get away with almost anything."

Peter snickered, wondering how Anya would react if she suddenly found herself victim to his best friends' pranks. He really wanted to invite his friends over, but he knew them too well. His mother may be lovely and kind, but she had this fantastic temper that was definitely a trademark of a Selwyn. He knew she wouldn't be lenient with James and Sirius with their pranks. Hermione's knack for ruling with an iron fist undoubtedly came from Anya, after all.

Sirius directed them inside James's bedroom and immediately settled on an elegant maroon armchair with golden trimmings. James was sitting on his King-sized bed, a burgundy blanket draped over his lap.

Peter slightly blinked at the room, still unused to how ridiculously neat and lavish James's room was. It was easy to forget that he was best friends with an insanely rich heir, since James never really acted like a usual, snooty Pureblood bigot when they were at school. Which was why he was still caught off-guard every time he stepped inside the Potter Manor - with every nook and cranny screaming old money.

He chose to sit on an ottoman while Remus invited himself over to sit at the foot of James's bed.

James finally snapped out of his weird mood and played with his Golden Snitch. "Any news, Petey?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Well," he started, "nothing much. Same old, I guess."

The only exciting thing that had happened to him during the break was _yesterday_ , when he had caught Hermione sobbing her eyes out over a can of cheap soda in their fridge. He admittedly panicked at first, because he had never seen his sister cry her eyes out like that, and it had taken him a few minutes to calm her down. Of course, he never bought her lie about hating cheap soda to the point of crying, but at least she looked marginally better after. He still worried about what had bothered her, but he knew she'd tell him if something was wrong with her. Hermione always did after all.

James stopped tossing the Snitch and pulled out his wand. With a brief wave, his door latched closed. Peter's eyes widened, surprised with his display of non-verbal magic, but James had always been brilliant at Charms.

"Have you seen the latest news?" James asked in a low voice, his eyebrows knitting together.

"What news?" Remus asked, confused. "I mean, there was the news about a new Keeper for the Chudley Cannons—"

"No, not that kind of news," James said, cutting him off. "I meant about the attack on Muggles living in Notting Hill."

Peter's eyes widened in recognition. "I heard about that," he gravely replied with a solemn nod. "Hermione and her friends were listening to that yesterday and I overheard."

"The Daily Prophet said it shouldn't cause any alarm," Sirius pointed out with a derisive snort. "Said it was an accident by some wayward wizard."

"Then, how can they explain the _Dark Mark_?" Peter seriously asked. Identical grave looks appeared on the others' faces. "The witness said she'd seen a mark in the sky – green, with a skull and snake. Isn't that the symbol for Voldemort?"

Sirius flinched at the mention of the evil wizard's name and frowned. "Merlin, I'd actually forgotten about him," he drawled. "My parents wouldn't shut up about him for _ages_ , praising his works and ideology. It was sickening, honestly."

"Well, I overheard _my_ parents talking about it yesterday," James continued. He jumped off his bed and started to pace, absentmindedly tossing the Golden Snitch in the air once more. "They caught me almost immediately, but I demanded them to tell me what they knew about the attack."

"Let me guess," Remus said with a sigh, dramatically falling onto his back. "They said you're too young to know."

"Bingo, Moony," James said, snapping a nod in his direction. "But I insisted I've already turned seventeen, practically an adult by Wizarding standards." He stopped his pacing and frowned deeply at his friends. "And besides, I told them if I were to become an Auror in the future, I should know who I'll be dealing with."

Peter leant forward, his blue eyes trained intently on James. "And they relented?" he asked, hope in the tone of his voice.

He slowly nodded his head and plopped down on his bed again. "They confirmed it was Voldemort who did it," he continued. "There were a lot of victims during the attack, so it was only logical that a huge group of people wreaked havoc." He gravely stared at his friends. "Dad said there were a bunch of wizards and witches, their faces hidden behind silver masks, who mercilessly cast the Killing Curse on the innocent Muggles."

"The Death Eaters," Sirius growled. "Of course."

James nodded his head. "They've grown larger, Dad said. Voldemort has been unceasingly recruiting for years and – well—" He paused and grew worried, his hands now playing with the fluttering wings of the Golden Snitch. "He feared that Voldemort would try to recruit me in the future, since I'm a Pureblood with decent magical skills." His hazel eyes latched onto Sirius's worried ones. "You too, Dad said. As a Black." His eyes then landed on Remus and grimaced. "With your furry little problem, you're possibly off the hook."

Remus snorted, his lips curled into a sneer. "Lucky me," he drawled sarcastically.

"But aren't you a bunch of Blood-Traitors?" Peter blurted out. His cheeks flooded red at their simultaneous eye rolls. "I mean, _obviously_ , you don't share his ideology of ridding the Wizarding World of people who do not have Pureblood running in their veins. Why should he waste time recruiting you both when he can scour the whole Sacred Twenty-Eight to recruit worthy followers?"

Sirius stiffened at his words, and Peter didn't doubt he was thinking about his brother. This made Peter worried too, because he knew from James that Hermione had spent a lot of time with the Black heir last year. If he was bad news, entangled with Voldemort and his scheming ways, then he worried for Hermione's safety.

"Because he wants to build an army," Remus deadpanned. "The Sacred Twenty-Eight isn't enough. He's trying to search for other worthy, _strong_ followers, no matter their blood statuses. Pledging their loyalty to him would be enough."

Peter blanched at Remus's words and fearfully looked at James and Sirius. He didn't really know much about Voldemort since he practically grew up in a Muggle household. Anya's stories about Voldemort were merely fairy tales, something to scare him if he was being naughty. Somehow, he felt that Anya was warning him of Voldemort's dangerous ways, since she grew up in a Pureblood household that was as entangled with the Dark Arts as the Blacks.

"He might come for you too, Peter," James pointed out.

"Me?" he squeaked.

"You're a _Selwyn_ ," Sirius explained, nodding his head to agree with James's words. "Despite being a Half-blood, an ancient Pureblood family's blood still courses through your veins. Voldemort might deem you worthy."

Cold fear gripped his heart, blanching at the thought. "I'm not even good at anything," he said with a nervous laugh.

James snorted and continued to toss the Golden Snitch in the air. "I'm sure your _golden_ blood will overshadow whatever faults you have, Wormtail," he pointed out.

" _Shite_ ," Remus suddenly said, shooting upright. His eyes were wide like a full moon. "He might come for _Hermione_."

"What?!" Peter gasped. James fumbled with the Golden Snitch, unable to catch it for the first time in ages. The winged ball zoomed around the room, but the wizards were unable to notice it, their heads filled with Remus's words.

"Shite," Sirius echoed, face growing paler. "It makes sense. Hermione's bloody brilliant, and terrifying, and she's half Selwyn. She's everything the bloody bastard is searching for." The normally carefree wizard suddenly looked too serious, too _afraid_ , and Peter didn't like it one bit. "I don't doubt it either, if he's heard of her already."

The cold fear morphed into a roaring feeling of indignation and overprotection. " _No_ , no, I won't let that happen," he snarled, his hands curling into tight fists.

James distractedly lifted his hand and deftly caught the zooming Snitch. His hand tightly enclosed around the golden ball as he glared darkly at his feet. "Me too," he swore. "He'd have to get through me first."

"And me," Sirius said with a resolute nod.

"And me," Remus echoed with a tense jaw.

Their declaration marginally calmed him down. Peter lightly smiled at his friends, grateful and surprised at the same time, that they were thinking about his sister's welfare too. He didn't really know when it had happened, but Hermione had deeply ingrained herself in the Marauder's life. Sirius had once joked that she was an honorary member of their little club, prompting Hermione to roll her eyes, but somehow, Peter knew Sirius didn't purely mean it as a joke.

"Dad also revealed something to me," James continued, plopping down onto his bed once more. "Our family has always been vocal about our opinions on Pureblood bigotry and all that shite, so we've gained a few enemies along the way. At the same time, we caught the eye of Dumbledore and we have been funding his cause ever since."

"What has Dumbledore got to do with all of this Voldemort drama?" Sirius asked with a frown.

James's hazel eyes lit up in sudden excitement. "Dad said Dumbledore has been secretly building a resistance against Voldemort and his Death Eaters," he lowly said. "The Order of the Phoenix, is what it's called."

Sirius whistled under his breath. "Wicked name," he commended.

"I know," James continued with a wide grin. "Dumbledore's trying to recruit too, and Dad said he might ask us to join after graduating."

"I know it's too early to say," Peter slowly said, "but I'm going to join in a heartbeat. If it means we can get rid of that vile dark lord."

James's grin had grown full blown. "That's the spirit, Peter," he claimed. "I told my parents I will join too if Dumbledore asks me. Mum was hesitant, said things are about to get messier now that Voldemort's army is growing, but I insisted. We're at _war_ after all. We can't afford not to choose sides."

"Besides, Dumbledore is the only wizard Voldemort fears," Sirius piped in, a wicked grin on his face. "If we want to defeat him, then siding with Dumbledore is the wisest decision."

"So, that's settled then," James said with a firm nod. "Messrs, all in favour of joining 'The Order of the Phoenix' after graduating say aye."

The booming 'Ayes' in the bedroom reverberated against the rich wallpapers.

"Right," James continued with a laugh. "I have one last piece of news."

He rummaged inside his robe pocket and pulled out a shiny object. He tossed it in the air, towards Peter's direction. As someone who wasn't gifted with James's stellar Quidditch reflexes, Peter slightly fumbled with the object and almost didn't catch it.

He threw a light glare at the snickering wizard before he glanced down at the object in his hands, noticing its shiny, maroon colour, bearing a proud, golden 'H' in the middle of it.

"You've made Head Boy?" Peter asked with wide, surprised eyes.

"And this." James quickly pulled out another object in his pocket and threw it in Sirius' direction this time. He was able to catch it more elegantly than Peter and showed another maroon badge, this time with the golden word 'Captain' embossed on it.

"The wanker actually made Quidditch Captain too," Sirius snorted, although a proud smile was stretched on his face.

"Well, I thought Moony'd make Head Boy," Peter pointed out with a quirked eyebrow.

Remus sighed and shrugged. "Dumbledore did offer me the position but I politely declined," he said with a wry smile. "I think being a werewolf is already too much of a responsibility. Besides, I'll still retain my Prefect status, so there's that."

"Hogwarts will surely crash and burn under Prongsie's dictatorship," Sirius joked, immediately ducking when a pillow soared over his head.

"I'm going to be the best Head Boy Hogwarts has ever seen, you just wait," James passionately declared, comically shaking the Golden Snitch in the air.

Peter snorted at his claim. "Imagine Hermione's horror when she discovers _you_ made Head Boy," he pointed out.

The smile on James's face was blinding as he ran a hand through his hair. "She'd be proud of me, yeah?" he said, hope in his voice.

"After she's nagged you first on the importance of being Head Boy, I'm sure, yeah," Peter said with a laugh.

James guffawed and lifted a clenched fist in the air. "Iron fist," he said.

Peter mirrored his hand gesture and widely grinned. "Iron fist," he echoed.

* * *

**September 1, 1977**

People were sombre, Hermione noticed.

As she pulled her trunk along the corridor on the Hogwarts Express in search of her best friends, Hermione couldn't shake away the terrified faces she had seen on parents when they had dropped off their children for another school-year. She knew it was from the increasing attacks in _both_ Muggle and Wizarding London. The massacre of Muggle families in Notting Hill wasn't the last. News about wizards and witches, both young and old, dying due to the Killing Curse and other dark curses, had been plastered all over the Daily Prophet. Hermione still scoffed at how they yammered on and on that the world was safe, but the menacing Dark Mark splashed on the front pages every day begged to differ.

Hermione had a feeling prior to boarding the train that this year would be different, _magnificently_ different. A niggling feeling at the back of her mind constantly told her to be vigilant this school-year, to keep her eyes open for any strange activities, and to observe people who had started to act oddly.

She paused her inner turmoil when she spied Regulus's familiar black hair inside a compartment. The Black heir was alone, his silver eyes trained intently outside the window, seemingly lost in thought.

Shaking her head to get rid of any depressing thoughts, Hermione pasted a small, pleasant smile on her face and opened the compartment door.

"Hey," she greeted.

Instead of his usual drawl, Regulus stiffened at the sound of her voice. The smile on her face faltered as he slowly turned to face her, a dark scowl marring his handsome face. Hermione instantly noticed the dark moons under his eyes, the dangerous glint in his molten silver eyes, and his tense jaw.

"What do you want?" he irately snapped.

Hermione's eyebrows knitted together in confusion, wondering why Regulus was in such a bad mood. "Well, somebody got up on the wrong side of bed," she deliberately said, hoping her tone sounded teasing instead of confused and angry.

She watched as his hands on his lap balled into tight fists. "Get out," he harshly whispered.

"What?" she snapped, growing a tad furious at the tone of his voice.

"I said _get out_ , Pettigrew," he ground out through gritted teeth. "Do I have to repeat myself again?"

" _Blimey_ , what has gotten into you?" she said, rolling her eyes at his ridiculous temper.

Regulus was suddenly on his feet, his wand clutched tightly in his right hand. "Get out, Pettigrew, or I'll—"

" _What_ , hex me?" she growled, glaring darkly at his brandished wand. "No need to waste your energy, _Black_. I'm leaving. And here I thought we were actually friends."

She harrumphed away and stomped out of the compartment, but not before she saw a certain flicker in his silver eyes that bothered her immensely.

As she crossed the threshold, her path was blocked by a towering form. Blinking in surprise, she lifted her face and was greeted by Barty Crouch Jr.'s snarling face. His tongue still did that weird, flicking thing as he met her gaze with wild, beady eyes.

"You're in my way," she softly murmured, trying to stamp down whatever discomfort he made her feel. There was something about the young version of the Death Eater that still gave her the creeps. Perhaps, she remembered how he'd consumed bottles of Polyjuice Potion in order to impersonate a respectable veteran Auror, just to orchestrate the return of Voldemort.

"Is she bothering you, Regulus?" he casually asked, looking over her shoulder to stare at the silent heir behind her.

She kept her gaze on the Slytherin in front of her, unable to see whatever movement Regulus did.

"Let her go," he coldly commanded. "She was just leaving."

Disappointment bloomed on Crouch's face as he looked back at Hermione. Briefly, she remembered an image of Crouch disguised as Moody, his wand pointed at a poor spider as he uttered Unforgivables.

Hermione swallowed down her fear and pushed past him, ignoring the other Slytherin lurking behind the menacing wizard.

She soon found Lily and Sev a few compartments away from where Regulus had been. By the time she had slid inside, she was more bothered with Regulus's odd behaviour than furious. Such was her distraction, she didn't even notice the new shining badge pinned on Lily's robe, or how she hastily withdrew her hand from Sev's warm hold.

"Is something the matter, Hermione?" the redhead asked, worry on her face as she stood up from her seat beside the Slytherin and sat down beside the brunette instead.

"I just had the strangest encounter with Regulus Black," the brunette said with a frown, unwilling to let her thoughts run wild in fear of what she'd conclude.

Severus's face darkened at the mention of his name. "Hermione," he growled, "I told you to stay away from him."

Hermione rolled her eyes, too tired to snap at him. "And I told you I'd associate myself with whoever I want, Sev," she tiredly pointed out.

His jaw tensed as he suddenly shot forward and tightly gripped her hands. " _Hermione_ , please," he beseeched. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw how Lily's eyes widened at his begging. "I know you are mighty stubborn and I know you can take care of yourself, but all I'm asking is for you to stop being friends with Black. _Especially_ now. Not when he's—" He tentatively trailed off, his black eyes shifting away from Hermione's horrified stare. "If you want to live a happy life, you should stay away from him, and anybody else he associates with for that matter."

Bile rose up in her throat.

She wanted to stop herself from thinking, knowing that she'd arrive at a conclusion that would make one of her worst fears realised. But with Sev's eyes and words, Hermione already had this inkling as to why Regulus was acting as such.

' _It's happening,'_ a panicked voice whispered. _'It's happening. The war. It's here. It's here.'_

"Hermione?" Lily's voice cut through her inner terror. "You don't look good."

"I – I'm going to the loo," she excused.

Before Lily or Sev could stop her, Hermione scrambled out of their compartment and blindly sought for the comfort of the toilet. As soon as she got there, she doubled over the toilet and proceeded to empty her stomach. Tears pricked her eyes at the force and she shakily wiped away the beads of sweat on her forehead once she was done.

"It's happening," she whispered to no one. The tears in her eyes increased as dread grew and engulfed her whole. She worried about Regulus Black, who had become her friend.

As she leaned her head against the cold wall, Hermione had a single thought running inside of her mind.

The war was here and she knew she couldn't look away anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe, welcome to Hermione's sixth year!
> 
> Before I forget, Peter Pettigrew as a half-Selwyn is purely made up. Like I said, his background info is abysmal but I'd like to think one of the reasons why he's inclined with the Dark Arts was because of his maternal family. The Selwyns are part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, but they're not fleshed out in canon too much so I chose them by default hahaha.
> 
> Again, your reviews had really been lovely and my love for y'all grows and grows everyday.
> 
> See you again tomorrow! That's it for now.
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes). I post fancasts and moodboards because I'm bored hAHAHAHA. Tho, I think that will be infrequent already since I'll be studying like crazy this week.


	21. chapter twenty

* * *

**xx.**

_**and suddenly i see you** _

(Venus by Sleeping at Last)

* * *

**September 9, 1977**

Hermione grinned when she spied the Head Girl sprawled tiredly on the grass near the Black Lake. Lily had begged Hermione to accompany her at said lake that afternoon, wanting to get away from her suddenly overwhelming responsibilities.

"Hello," the brunette greeted, obscuring Lily's face as she peered down at her.

Lily's green eyes popped open. "Hermione," she groaned. "Hi, come. Lie down beside me. I don't think I can get up."

The Ravenclaw snorted and chose to sit cross-legged beside the exhausted Head Girl. "It hasn't even been a week since you were appointed as Head Girl," she pointed out. "You look like a year has already passed."

"Well, it bloody feels like it," she grumbled under her breath. Lily shifted so that her head could rest on Hermione's lap. "I always knew being Head Girl would be hard. I mean, I _aimed_ to become one after all. But now that I'm actually here – well – I love it, of course. But it's too much work."

"What's this?" Hermione asked with a mock gasp. "Lily Evans is starting to complain about _too_ much work?"

Lily lightly swatted her arm, prompting Hermione to laugh. "Headmaster Dumbledore expects so much it's exasperating," she complained. She lightly glared at the still-laughing brunette. "Oh you, go on, laugh. I'm sure you'll be Head Girl next year and you'll see what I'm complaining about."

"You don't know that," Hermione pointed out.

" _Please_ , Hermione," Lily said with a snort. "You got ten 'O's in your OWLs. _All_ 'O's in your OWLs, blimey! Your colour-coded schedules are famous in this school. If anybody's worthy of becoming a Head Girl, I'm placing all of my bets on you."

This thought made Hermione pause, knowing this was a true possibility. It hadn't really bothered her when she wasn't given the position of Prefect in this timeline. It was too much work and she really, truly wanted to focus on her studies instead. But most of the time, the appointed Heads hadn't held a Prefect position in previous years. Besides, she had the grades and the diligence to become one.

A pleasant thrill ran down her spine. Hermione Granger always wanted to become a Head Girl and she had worked her very best to be given that position. Professor McGonagall had hinted at the end of their sixth year that she would undoubtedly be given it the following school-year, but then, of course, the horcrux hunt had happened and those dreams weren't realised. Perhaps, Hermione Pettigrew could finally uphold that dream.

"At least our personal dormitory is lovely," Lily said with a sigh, snuggling closer to Hermione. "I love my roommates but they can be a bit noisy when I want a moment of peace."

Hermione looked down at the redhead in bemusement. "I didn't know Lily Evans coveted me-time," she pointed out with a teasing grin.

"Of course, I covet me-time!" she exclaimed. "I love being surrounded by people _most_ of the time, yes, but there are moments I want to be alone."

The brunette hummed her agreement and brushed away Lily's hair from her face. "How does it feel sharing a dormitory with James Potter, though?" she casually asked, ignoring the niggling voice in the back of her mind. She was genuinely curious, that was all. Besides, Harry had told her that his parents had gotten together during their seventh year when they were both named as Heads. Hermione wanted to know if there had been progress in their relationship.

To her amusement, Lily wrinkled her nose and pushed herself up into a sitting position. "He's still a toerag," Lily complained.

Hermione noted the confused look on Lily's face. "But?" she edged on.

"But… he's _different_ ," she continued, a frown now blooming on her pretty face. "He's still pompous with an ego the size of the sun. _Merlin_ , you should have seen him during our initial meeting with the Prefects. Arrogant git was practically brimming with self-confidence and the Prefects were hanging on to his every word."

"James is diligent," Hermione blurted out before she could stop herself.

Lily gave her a weird look, prompting her to look away and hide her blush. "Well… surprisingly, he is," she said. "I had doubts when I first found out he was made Head Boy, but when did Professor Dumbledore ever get it wrong, right? He actually managed to finish up the Patrol schedule for the Prefects all by himself yesterday! Honestly, if he'd shown this side of him in previous years, I'd have thought he was tolerable."

"So…" Hermione slowly said, her blue eyes landing on her clasped hands. "You think he's tolerable now?"

"Oh, loads," Lily immediately said. Hermione grimaced. "He's stopped doing those ridiculous love declarations, too, and has been conversing with me like a normal person. He and his annoying friends stopped pestering Sev too, so that's an added bonus."

The Ravenclaw tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "So, you'll give him a chance this year?" she softly asked, hating how her voice cracked in the middle of her question.

Lily expelled a loud snort. "Merlin, _no_ ," she exclaimed, like it was the most ridiculous thing in the whole world. "He's still James Potter, and he's still a toerag in my eyes, despite how he's marvellously toned down his arrogance. Besides…" Lily trailed off as a small blush appeared on her cheeks. "I've actually been seeing someone."

" _What_?!" Hermione exclaimed, her blue eyes growing wide. "When? I mean, who are you dating? _Merlin_ , was I really so swamped with OWLs last year that I never really found the proper time to hang out with you guys?"

The Head Girl was giggling. "You didn't really miss a lot," she said, shyly tucking a red strand behind her ear. "It just happened… suddenly, like unbelievably out of nowhere."

"Who are you dating?" Hermione repeated, more insistent. "Is he someone I know? Someone in your year?"

"Blimey, you have a lot of questions today," Lily said, nervously smiling as she refused to meet Hermione's eyes. Then, with a mighty groan, she hid herself behind Hermione. "Toerag's coming our way."

Hermione stiffened and slowly turned her head. True to Lily's words, James and his friends were striding towards them. Sirius was already excitedly waving his hand in greeting, while Remus made a face at his ridiculous antics.

"All right, Whiskers?" James asked and proceeded to run a hand through his hair. Hermione's eyes were trained intently on his wild hair.

"Yeah," she replied, praying to the cosmos above that her cheeks would stay blush-free. To her dismay, her bloody crush on the new Head Boy was still thriving.

A sudden object soared through the air which caught her attention and Hermione, acting on instinct, grabbed it with her hands before it could hit her face. With curious eyes, she looked at the object in her hand and was surprised to see her favourite candy.

"Um, thanks," she said, blinking at a grinning Head Boy.

"Don't mention it," he flippantly said, his grin growing wide. Hermione had to stop herself from smacking her forehead, because _bloody_ Merlin, he looked ridiculously handsome - it was mighty unfair.

"You're not studying," Peter suddenly pointed out.

Hermione mentally sighed in relief and playfully glared at her brother. "I'm taking a break," she announced.

Sirius gasped loudly. "Is… is _hell_ freezing over?" he exclaimed. "Are fucking pigs starting to fly?!"

"Well, technically there are a race of pigs in Greece that—"

"Moony, shut up," James pointed out with a loud laugh.

Remus clamped his lips shut and grinned at Hermione. "Good to see you're not obsessing over your studies this year, Hermione," he said.

Peter expelled a snort. "Remus, please, only a week has passed," her brother pointed out. "Don't jinx it."

Hermione lightly scowled and swatted his shin, prompting him to laugh.

"Anyway, we just stopped by to say hi," Sirius said, swinging his arm over James's shoulders. "We're about to pull off a wonderful prank on Madame Pince, you see, but Prongsie caught sight of his lady love and dragged us all just to bloody say hi."

He threw a wink at Lily, who made a face. James, on the other hand, turned a brilliant shade of red and hit Sirius's ribs with his elbow.

"And now, we're leaving," James insisted, steering Sirius away with a light glare.

"Bye!" Sirius happily cried, madly waving his hand once more, and grabbed onto both Remus and Peter's arms to pull them away.

James hesitated for a while and glanced at the witches once more. "Evans," he politely said with a small smile. Lily merely tipped her head in reply. When James's hazel eyes swept to her, Hermione swore his mouth stretched wider, his hazel eyes twinkled brighter, and his cheeks dusted with pink once again. "Bye, Hermione."

She matched his smile, unable to stop her heart from skipping a beat, and bid him goodbye.

Hermione grinned at the candy in her hand and removed the wrapper. When she popped the toffee inside her mouth, she glanced at Lily and frowned. "What?" she asked, now knitting her eyebrows in confusion.

Lily's jaw was open and her green eyes almost popped out of their sockets. "You've got to be kidding me!" she breathlessly exclaimed.

" _What_?" Hermione asked once more, this time more insistent.

The Head Girl suddenly burst into loud, disbelieving laughter and merely engulfed Hermione in a bear hug.

* * *

**September 10, 1977**

Lily's eyes had been scrutinising James ever since he had walked inside their dormitory. As usual, he greeted her with a cool, "Hey, Evans" and that ridiculous lopsided smile of his that made a lot of women sigh dreamily. Lily still stiffened every time James Potter was within her line of vision, getting ready to bolt away once he started to spout declarations of love with obnoxious displays to woo her heart. None of this had happened since the start of the school-year, of course, and although Lily was relieved, she was also admittedly curious with his sudden change in attitude.

She had at first thought he had grown tired of pursuing her, especially now that he was both the Head Boy and Gryffindor Quidditch Captain. On top of that, it was their NEWTs year and he was set on becoming an Auror after graduation. James couldn't afford to lose sight of his priorities, and apparently wooing his supposed love of his life wasn't part of them.

It never really occurred to her that he had stopped liking her because he had realised he liked _another_. After that strange encounter at the Black Lake yesterday, everything had slotted into place and had started to make sense. The weird smiles, the buying of butterbeer, the giving of toffees, the ridiculous coincidence of his company every time her best friend was present… All of this boiled down to a conclusion that James Potter apparently liked Hermione Pettigrew now.

It was laughable, now that Lily properly thought about it. Hermione was comically oblivious with the change in tide, still insisting for Lily to give James a chance, because he had better qualities than what he usually showed to her. But James never showed a different side when he tried to pursue Lily. He was always the arrogant toerag, walking around the school like the whole world revolved around him. She couldn't digest the fact that he had another side, a sweeter, _kinder_ side.

"All set, Evans?" James asked, breaking through her chaotic thoughts.

Lily stared at him for a moment, waiting for him to become flustered, but James merely quirked an eyebrow. "Yeah, let's go," she finally said with a sigh.

They walked out of the portrait hole together and started their nightly patrol. Lily was usually content with the silence, but today, she wanted to test her theory.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she watched as James fished out his Golden Snitch and started to absentmindedly toss it in the air whilst whistling a soft tune under his breath. She quirked an eyebrow, recognising 'The Long and Winding Road', and was unable to stop herself when she blurted out, "You know that song?"

James paused his whistling and briefly glanced at Lily. His cheeks turned pink as a sheepish smile grew on his face. "Err, well, it was the first song Hermione played for me when she was teaching me how to play the guitar," he confessed. "It's kind of stuck in my mind ever since."

Lily stopped walking and gaped at his back. "I'm sorry, do you mean _Hermione_ taught you how to play the guitar?" she exclaimed in disbelief.

The Head Boy also stopped walking and craned his neck over his shoulder. "Ah – _well_ – I thought Hermione would have told you," he said, followed by a soft laugh. "Back when we were in fifth year, I asked for her help to woo you, seeing that she's your best friend. She let it slip that you were hopelessly in love with the band, The Beatles, and once joked that if someone sang 'I Want to Hold Your Hand' while strumming a guitar, you'd snog me senselessly."

Her green eyes almost popped out of their sockets. "I always wondered how you knew that song!" she cried. "That _rat_."

James held up his hands and laughed once more. "Hey, hey, don't get mad at Hermione now," he appeased. "I was mighty persistent back then and she genuinely wanted to help." A soft look appeared on his face as he stupidly grinned at the floor. "She's always been really kind, you know."

There it was again, that sappy look on James's face. Her initial feelings of betrayal about Hermione helping this annoying wizard melted, replaced with persistent curiosity once more. "But then, you stopped," she simply stated.

"Sorry?"

"The wooing," Lily expounded. "The boisterous declarations of love. The ridiculous displays of affection. That all stopped."

James fully turned around to face Lily now, an uncertain look on his face. "Well, I figured out you didn't like it at all," he said, his hand climbing up to the back of his neck where he started to awkwardly rub it. "Actually, Hermione had to explicitly tell me that I had to back the fuck off because it was making you uncomfortable. Sorry about that, Evans, really. I am, as you've fondly called me a thousand times before, a _toerag_. I was terribly forward and tried to outdo myself every time I wooed you."

If it were more possible, Lily's eyes widened at his words. Where was this James Potter before? Lily had never seen this side of him! Perhaps, Hermione had been right when she had said that James had other sides to him.

' _Hermione_ ,' Lily thought, the corners of her mouth twitching.

Time to test her theory.

"Go out with me, Potter," she casually drawled, her green eyes not leaving his form. "As in just the two of us. Without your annoying friends and without my best friends. The first Hogsmeade Day will be two weeks from now. Maybe, you want to grab some butterbeers and get to know each other more?"

She had to stop herself from laughing when James's hazel eyes grew as round as the Golden Snitch in his hand. His cheeks turned splotchy red and secretly, Lily thought it was stupidly unfair how such an incorrigible boy could look as handsome as he did. She did find him nice to look at, even before when he was still trying to pursue her, but his annoying personality had overshadowed whatever physical attractiveness the Potter heir exuded.

"Evans," he deliberately said. "I mean – _Lily_." He paused and thickly swallowed, his hazel eyes now unable to meet her piercing ones. He nervously ruffled his hair and frowned. "I still think you are pretty. Bloody fucking pretty, if I were to be honest. And you're brilliant too! I always knew you'd become Head Girl what with that huge brain of yours."

She heard the word 'but' loud and clear even though he never voiced it aloud. Lily languidly strolled closer, shrinking the distance between them.

James didn't even flinch.

"But?" she breathed out.

His eyes finally snapped back to her, a resolute firmness in them that almost knocked her off her feet. James Potter was never serious. James Potter never _looked_ this serious. It was disconcerting. The bully toerag she'd grown up with in the past seemed like a distant memory now. James looked every bit a proper adult in this world and Lily wondered when he had started to grow up.

"But I really, truly, _honestly_ think you're a little too late," he ground out, his jaw slightly tensed whilst his gaze was unwavering.

Lily stared, watching as James slowly grew nervous under her intense gaze.

' _So,'_ she thought. _'Theory is fact.'_

To James's confusion, a huge grin broke out on Lily's face. "All right," she flippantly said. "Besides, I'm sure my boyfriend would go ballistic if he found out I had asked James Potter out on a Hogsmeade date."

The Head Boy looked like a fish out of water, his mouth opening and closing ridiculously - no words tumbled out.

"Well," Lily said, casually brushing her red hair over one shoulder, "Severus and I will be busy on Hogsmeade Day so Hermione might need some company."

Lily didn't bother hiding her smile when James furiously blushed and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah?" he nervously asked, slowly turning around once more so that his back was facing her.

"Godric, Potter, you're _hopeless_ ," Lily said with a derisive snort.

"What?"

The redhead sighed and ignored his question, instead striding forward and continuing her patrol. James had blessedly kept silent throughout, but his hazel eyes still darted curiously at her back.

Secretly, Lily smiled. If she were being honest with herself, she had almost cracked last year and agreed to go out on one date with him. He had become so annoying that she had thought this may have stopped him from pestering her. But she was glad she had never given in, because if she had seen this side of James, she may have started to have doubts - which would have distracted her from the feelings she'd been having for another certain bloke.

Besides, Lily had this inkling Hermione liked James, too, and she didn't want to rob her best friend of possible happiness, even if it meant she had to tolerate the annoying toerag for the rest of her life.

* * *

**September 23, 1977**

Hermione blinked and stopped her trek towards her usual library table.

Sitting on her table, with his back facing her, was Regulus Black. Said Slytherin was religiously writing something down on parchment, most likely finishing an essay.

She glanced around the library, noting there were a lot of empty tables. She wondered if Regulus had gone there unconsciously, seeing that he had been sitting there often last year. Hermione thought it was silly to claim a table as her own, but she'd been sitting there since she was eleven years old. Other frequent library-goers had already made a silent agreement that this table was reserved for Hermione Pettigrew and had thankfully steered clear from it.

Her stomach churned with the thought that the Slytherin might already be Branded, her dinner threatening to spill out. She told herself she could choose another table to sit on today, not wanting to share a table with a possible Death Eater. Besides, Regulus had made it a point to avoid her. September was almost ending, but Regulus did not even give her a mere glance. He was constantly flanked by Barty Crouch Jr. and another Slytherin she knew by the name of Evan Rosier. Regulus looked reminiscent of Draco Malfoy, accompanied by his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, reverently following him everywhere he went.

But despite her protesting, logical mind, Hermione's feet brought her towards Regulus and stopped once she was standing behind him.

Regulus suddenly stiffened, sensing her presence, before he slowly craned his neck around to look at her.

"You're on my table," she blurted out.

Brief surprise flitted in Regulus's grey eyes, before any emotions were shielded behind his indifferent mask. "There are plenty of seats in the library, Pettigrew," he coolly drawled, his tone almost making Hermione shiver at how icy he sounded.

"I've always sat on this table," Hermione persisted. "And you're sitting at it."

Regulus glowered.

"Unless you're going to willingly share this seat with me," she hotly continued, "I suggest you move to another table, Regulus."

She knew she was becoming petty, but she'd been understandably hurt by his cold indifference on the train.

Regulus bared his teeth then hastily crammed his things into his bag. Hermione sighed, having hoped that he wouldn't be like this, but of course, she remembered how he had easily brushed her off on the train.

Her eyes strayed to his covered left forearm and she felt the bile rise up in her throat once more. She tried her hardest to see any sign of a Dark Mark marring his white skin, but Regulus's robe was in the way. Without thinking, before he could move away, Hermione shot forward and clutched his left forearm. _Tight_.

The Slytherin instantly froze and stopped breathing all together, his eyes growing wide as he stared at Hermione.

"If you need any help," she lowly whispered for only him to hear, "please, please, _please_ don't hesitate to come ask for mine, Regulus."

Regulus had grown pale at her words, his indifferent mask starting to crack. Vulnerability peeked through and Hermione's heart soared, wondering if he'd relent and tell her his deepest, darkest secret.

"I—" The words wouldn't stumble from his lips and his grey eyes looked terrified.

"Hermione!"

The spell was instantly broken as Regulus pulled his arm away, a look of utter disdain on his face again.

Hermione bit back a groan and looked over her shoulder, unable to stop herself from glaring upon seeing the Marauders standing a few paces away from her and the Slytherin. It was Sirius who had called for her, but his eyes were trained intently on his brother.

The brunette glanced quickly at Regulus, noting that the Slytherin was unable to meet anyone's eyes. His jaw was set and his face still pale, but thinly-veiled annoyance now covered whatever shred of vulnerability he had shown to Hermione.

"Everything all right, Hermione?"

Her eyes met James's and she was surprised at how his eyes were mostly dark brown with thunderous emotions. She was instantly reminded of the time when James had caught her studying with Regulus last year, and how he'd lashed out with a fury she didn't know the reasoning behind.

"I'm fine," she ground out.

James didn't seem to believe her as his wand hand twitched. Undoubtedly he wanted to brandish his wand and lash out at Regulus again.

"I'm _fine_ ," she repeated once more, this time with vehemence. Her stare was unwavering, unwilling to back down, until James gave the tiniest of nods and averted his glaring eyes towards his feet instead.

Regulus then tightly gripped his satchel and brushed past Hermione. The brunette toppled a bit at the force he used, but Peter was instantly beside her and kept her upright.

Hermione tensely watched as Regulus walked out of the library and ignored the Marauders.

"Did something happen?" Peter worriedly asked, gripping her arm to get her attention.

She shook her head and tiredly sighed. "Why are you all here?" she asked, desperately wanting to dispel whatever thick tension had settled in the library.

"We were wondering if you'd make us another one of your colour-coded schedules," Remus said, a look of understanding on his face. Hermione still fervently thanked the stars above at how sensitive Remus was towards people's feelings, always remaining attuned to what they truly wanted in that moment.

A corner of Hermione's lips twitched upward in amusement. "Back to using me now, are you?" she lightly teased.

Sirius expelled a humongous sigh and schooled whatever despondency he'd shown when he'd stared at Regulus. "Using you?" he asked with a snort, a hand climbing to his heart. "When did we ever?"

Hermione laughed softly at his melodrama, relieved that the tension had gone. "Lucky for you, I did make them over the summer," she said, sauntering towards her table and pulling out a chair. Peter instantly took the seat beside her, silent worry still on his face. Thankfully, he didn't ask any more questions.

Sirius and Remus clambered towards the table while Hermione pulled out the schedules from her bag.

"What are you glaring at, Prongsie mate?" Sirius called out with a snort. "Come now, sit down."

Hermione cautiously glanced at James, who was still glowering at the floor before pulling out the chair across from her. He lifted his eyes to meet hers, but Hermione immediately looked away.

"So, yes, here are your schedules," she said, distributing them to the Marauders. "You may think it's stricter than your OWLs schedules, but we're talking about NEWTs here. To qualify as Aurors, the ministry expects at least five _Exceeds Expectations_ , and want none to go below _Acceptable_."

Peter considerably paled at her reminder, prompting Hermione to reach out for his hand and to give it a slight squeeze. "I've added extra attention on reviewing Defence Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Transfiguration and Charms, since they'd be the subjects they're going to focus on."

She turned to Peter and pointed at a yellow highlighted section. "I've also focused on your Herbology, Peter, because you're _hopeless_ in that subject," she claimed. "If you get at least an A, then we're all good."

She glanced at Remus. "I focused on Potions for you more, because you're pants at that, Remus." Her eyes swivelled towards Sirius and she kindly smiled. "I know you hate Care of Magical Creatures, so I placed extra days for that subject."

Her eyes finally landed on James, whose hazel eyes had now simmered down into a curios stare. He had his chin placed on top of his upturned palm, his head cocked to the side. "You… well – um, I added more study time for Arithmancy because it's your weakest subject."

"So, you really do know our weaknesses like a loon, blimey," Sirius snorted.

Hermione's gaze landed on Sirius and she gave him a glare. "'Thank you, Hermione. You're a life saver'," she snapped. "Some gratitude would have sufficed."

"Thank you, Hermione. You're a life saver," James echoed. She looked at him in surprise, her cheeks turning red at the handsome smile he flashed at her.

Hermione cleared her throat and looked down at her things. "Right, okay, time to study," she declared. She threw a glare at Sirius, who was in the middle of expelling a loud groan. He caught her eyes and promptly snapped his lips shut.

They breezed through the remaining hours in silence. Hermione easily lost herself in a flurry of her parchments and textbooks, furiously scribbling down words to complete her essay. And by the time she tore her gaze away from her paper, the Marauders were ready to go, identical amused smiles on their faces.

"Hi," Peter teased, "we thought you wouldn't snap out of it for a moment there."

Her cheeks reddened. "Sorry," she said, "I tend to do this a lot."

Remus chuckled. "We know, Hermione. We've studied with you before," he added.

"It's almost curfew," James pointed out. "And as much as I love the perks of being a Head Boy, I'm afraid I cannot extend such privileges to my friends, no matter how swotty they are." Hermione's cheeks reddened in annoyance when he shot her a smile.

"Aww, you've stopped being fun ever since you became Head Boy, Jamesy," Sirius petulantly said.

Remus rolled his eyes. "At least somebody decided to grow up this year," he pointed out. "Unlike other people."

Sirius reached forward and hit the werewolf on the back of his head, prompting Remus to scowl at him in return.

"I'll escort Hermione back to Ravenclaw Tower," Peter said, helping Hermione fix her things. "You guys go ahead."

James suddenly strode forward, an uncertain look on his face. "Let me do that instead," he said, his eyes never straying away from Peter's.

Hermione's eyes widened while Peter frowned. "Why?" he asked, confused.

"Ah – well – I have a favour to ask," he told him quickly, a nervous smile stretched widely on his face.

Remus quirked an eyebrow. "Favour?" he slowly asked. "What favour?"

"Never mind that," James immediately dismissed. Hermione noted the frown on Remus's face as she glanced back at James, wondering what this favour he was so eager to ask of her. "Go on, blokes, before I start deducting points from you for being outside your dormitories after curfew."

"You wouldn't dare!" Sirius gasped.

"Try me, Pads," he said with a pointed glare.

"Iron fist," Sirius hissed in return.

Hermione snorted, much to James's surprise. When he questioningly looked at her, she'd deftly shrugged. "I mean, you _have_ become stricter since becoming Head Boy," she pointed out.

"That is a good thing, right?" he deliberately asked.

"Oh, yes, of course," she said, nodding her head vigorously. "I was afraid you'd become lenient with your friends once you had assumed the highest position in the student body. So far, you've proved me wrong."

James was practically preening at her words and Hermione couldn't stop her eyes from rolling. "Right, _of course_ , I've stroked your bloody ego once more," she claimed with a disbelieving laugh.

"The only thing he's proved so far is that he's a wanker lately, Hermione, honest," Peter cajoled. James punched him on the shoulder, earning him another dark glare from his best friend.

"Go back to your dormitories, wankers," the Head Boy growled.

Peter expelled a long-suffering sigh and pulled Hermione into a goodbye hug, before trailing behind Remus and Sirius as they walked out of the library.

"Come on then," James said, grabbing her bag and slinging it over his shoulder, "before I'm forced to deduct points from _you_ for being outside after curfew."

"I'm with the Head Boy himself," Hermione pointed out matter-of-factly. "I'm sure there are exceptions to that rule."

James's eyes widened as he stared down at her. "Did those words really come out of your mouth?" he asked with a mock gasp. "What about being stricter, even with your friends? What about ruling with an _iron fist_?" He lifted his clenched hand and shook it with gusto.

"Prat," Hermione laughed, shoving him away as she sauntered towards the library doors. Her cheeks flushed red when she heard his laugh, before he quickly walked forwards until he was standing beside her.

The corridors were almost vacant, save from students who had also lost track of time. Hermione took a quick peek at her wristwatch and noted it was ten minutes before curfew. At this pace, it'd take her about eighteen minutes to reach Ravenclaw Tower. Out of the corner of her eyes, she watched as James coolly walked beside her, as if he didn't care about being caught outside of their dormitories past curfew. Her eyes slid towards his glinting Head Boy badge and she suppressed a snort, knowing he'd get away with it easily, with his sweet talking and charming smile.

"This favour you spoke of," Hermione said, deciding it was finally time to break the silence. "What is it?"

James hummed under his breath and briefly looked down at Hermione. He merely smiled, prompting Hermione to sigh.

"Look, James, as much as I _like_ walking beside you," she said, praying to Merlin she sounded a tad sarcastic and not ridiculously nervous, "not everybody can walk around with a 'Heads' badge pinned on their robes. If you must know, I only have" – she briefly checked her watch – "nine more minutes before curfew and I don't really plan on crossing paths with Filch, the first month back at school."

"Well, then, it's good I have this, isn't it?" James then pulled out the familiar Marauder's Map from his pocket and gave it to Hermione.

"It's done?" she asked, eyeing the parchment with wide, reverent eyes.

"More or else," James said with a shrug. "We tried to finish it during the summer, since it's our last year at Hogwarts. We should at least put it to good use before giving it to future pranksters."

Hermione snorted and pulled out her wand. She was about to utter the password, but then paused and questioningly glanced at James. "May I?" she asked.

"By all means," he said, gesturing at the map.

The Ravenclaw took a deep breath and tapped her wand tip onto the parchment. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," she whispered.

Ink bled into the parchment, forming the familiar greeting of the Marauders. She rolled her eyes at the ridiculous greeting, knowing full well this was Sirius's spiel.

She was about to open it, but James placed a hand on top of the parchment, halting her from doing so. She glanced at him in surprise, noting the wide, excited smile on his face. "Wait, don't open it yet. Look at the words in front first. It doesn't stop there," he said.

Hermione's eyes widened at this new information. She remembered there had been no further additions to the Marauders' greetings back then, so what had changed?

Highly curious, Hermione's eyes landed on the greeting again. The usual greeting flashed for a few seconds, before new words appeared.

"Special thanks to Miss Whiskers, Muse and Mentor of the Messrs.," she murmured, eyes growing wider after each word she uttered. "The truest Marauder of us all."

Hermione laughed in disbelief, her blue eyes glinting brightly in the dim corridor. "That's not even a compliment," she cried, pointing at the last sentence.

James matched her laugh and absentmindedly ruffled his hair. "For us, it is," he insisted. He nervously tugged the ends of his sticking hair and chuckled once more. "It was my idea, actually."

She stupidly grinned at the map and brushed her fingertips against her christened nickname. "Merlin, I still hate this name," she murmured. "And – well – I didn't know I was going to be mentioned! I didn't even contribute to making this, after all."

"You provided that wicked password, Hermione," James pointed out. "That's a huge contribution already." He uncertainly peered down at her and tentatively smiled. "You like it?"

"Of course I like it!" she exclaimed, another laugh bubbling from her lips. She shook the parchment in the air and added, "This thing is bloody brilliant, if you must know. Granted, it will be used for nefarious reasons, but the process of making it used very advanced magic."

James puffed out his chest, obviously proud at her glowing praise.

She laughed and chanced a glance on her watch. " _Blimey_ , we just wasted seven minutes!" she exclaimed. Hermione immediately opened the map and glanced around, noting that Filch and Mrs. Norris were already walking out of their office. "At this rate, I'll be caught outside after curfew."

James leant down, his face almost touching hers, and pointed at a passageway Hermione had never gone through before. "Good thing we discovered these secret passages in Hogwarts then, yeah?" he whispered, his warm breath washing over her cheeks. Hermione jerked back in surprise, flustered at his close proximity, and only mutely nodded her head when James steered her towards a tapestry of fluttering pixies.

Darkness instantly drenched the two students. James pulled out his own wand and murmured a soft _Lumos_ , illuminating the corridor. Hermione followed suit and murmured the spell, bringing her wand tip lower, to glance at the map once more. So far, no professors or caretakers were near them.

"I don't even know why we're _hiding_ when I'm Head Boy," James whispered in the dark, pressing himself closer to Hermione. "I can always make up an excuse."

"It'll be too exhausting to argue with Filch," Hermione replied, a nervous laugh escaping from her lips at the feel of James's arm brushing against her bare forearm. She belatedly regretted removing her robe prior to leaving the library. She was glad the corridor was almost dark, so her blushing cheeks could be concealed.

"So… the favour," she reiterated, training her eyes on the map. "Do you need help with wooing Lily once again?"

Silence met her question at first, and curious, Hermione lifted her blue eyes to glance at James. She almost backpedalled in surprise when she discovered he was already looking at her, his face too close for her heart to handle.

"Ah – well," James said, breaking their gaze and looking straight ahead. "Actually, I was wondering if you'd help me on the first Hogsmeade weekend."

"Okay, go on," she urged.

"Sirius is going on a date with Marley. Remus has to assist Professor Flitwick with a project that day. Even _Peter_ , that wanker, is busy that day. He's going on a date with Mary MacDonald, you see," James said.

That was news to her. "What?" she gasped in surprise. "Really?"

"Your brother finally grew some balls this year, eh?" he asked with a derisive snort. "He still cannot believe she said yes, though, and he's been over the moon ever since."

Hermione took a mental note to interrogate Peter about this, then shoved the thought away and focused her attention on James again. "So… what favour do you need?" she repeated.

His arm shifted, once again unwittingly brushing against Hermione, as he ran a hand through his hair. "I was hoping you'd help me on the Hogsmeade weekend by keeping me company?" he asked, hope thick in his voice. "I've been meaning to tell you something and – ah – err, I think that day's the perfect day to tell you. So, what do you think, Hermione?"

Her eyebrows slowly stitched together in the middle, trying to rack her brain for whatever James was trying to tell her. She was instantly reminded of the day where she and Lily were hanging out near the Black Lake.

" _I'm actually seeing someone,"_ Lily had said that day.

Could it be James? But Lily was adamant that she'd never give the toerag a chance. Or perhaps _Lily_ was embarrassed to admit she had started dating him, after years and years of complaining about his general attitude. It could explain the odd way they'd been interacting with each other; perhaps, they'd insisted on making it as _casual_ as possible, so that no one would get suspicious.

It didn't make sense why James would want to tell her about that during Hogsmeade weekend, but it was honestly the only explanation she could think of.

Well, there was _another_ explanation, but that was too farfetched to even be considered! Of course, there were strange looks from the Head Boy she'd never seen him wear before every time he'd seen her _or_ there were weird, awkward silences that bothered Hermione immensely. But then she'd brush off those odd instances, not wanting to delve on them deeper because surely, _surely_ she was wrong.

Realising she still hadn't given him an answer, Hermione swallowed down an uncomfortable lump and gave him a shaky smile. She wasn't sure if he'd notice how weird her smile was, but hoped not, since it was too dark in the secret passage. "All right," she finally said.

James looked marvellously relieved. "Yeah?" he asked, that handsome, lopsided smile on his face once more. Hermione groaned at how mighty unfair it was that she could still see how good-looking he was, despite walking in a poorly-lit corridor.

"Yeah," she echoed. "Lily and Sev bailed on me too, so I don't really have anyone to hang out with on that day."

"All right," he said, still with that stupid grin on his face. "I'll meet you in front of Ravenclaw Tower at 10. Sound good?"

Hermione didn't trust herself to speak so she merely nodded her head - unbelievably relieved when they finally reached the end of the corridor.

It took her a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the sudden onslaught of bright lights, before noticing they were already near the entrance of her Common Room. Her eyes widened as she glanced at James, noting the amused smile on his face.

"Well, here's your stop," James said, gesturing at the unimposing door with the eagle-shaped doorknocker. "Goodnight, Hermione."

"Goodnight," she echoed in return. She then offered the map back to James, which he deftly took.

"10am here, yeah?" he asked again.

Hermione lightly smiled. "Yeah."

James flashed another wide, lopsided smile that always made her heart stutter. Without breaking eye contact, he pressed his wand tip on the map and murmured a soft, "Mischief Managed."

Something in his eyes flickered, but he had already turned on his heel. Hermione found herself staring at his back until he reached the end of the corridor. A part of her wondered if he'd glance over his shoulder to give her another smile. A part of her _wished_ he'd glance over his shoulder to give her another smile.

She held her breath when he reached the end, and then expelled a surprised, _pleased_ laugh from her lips when James didn't disappoint. His eyes widened a bit, discovering that she still hadn't gone inside her Common Room. He stopped walking all together and turned his body to face her completely, gave her a silly little wave that made her laugh.

He then disappeared behind the corner and Hermione could properly breathe again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: The title of this chapter came from the song "Venus" by Sleeping at Last and I love it so, so much. This is legit my go-to song when I write a Jamione scene that requires a tremendous amount of fluffy feelings ahahahah
> 
> Very gentle reminder that our favourite heroine isn't entirely oblivious. She's just unwilling to entertain other possibilities because she's too dead set not to change too many things. For now.
> 
> Thank you so much for all the love! I'm still in disbelief how you're all still reading this and are generous enough to give glowing reviews!
> 
> See you tomorrow!
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr! (kimmy-writes)


	22. chapter twenty-one

* * *

**xxi.**

_**you plus me is bad news** _

(Love on the Rocks by Sara Bareilles)

* * *

**September 24, 1977**

She started getting ready at seven in the morning.

Fuelled by excitement and nervousness, Hermione had woken up at five, whilst the sun was just rising over the horizon. She tried to sleep again, because _Merlin_ it was a Saturday after all, but sleep had been elusive. Hermione busied herself instead, grabbing her Arithmancy textbook from her trunk, and trying to read, but the words grew blurry. Hermione gave up after rereading the same line ten times and threw her book back in her trunk.

The brunette found herself staring up at her canopy as the minutes passed by, wondering if it would be all right to get up so early for Hogsmeade today.

It was silly how she was feeling this way, when in the end, James would tell her he was dating Lily. But, an annoying voice in the back of her mind reminded her that he didn't need to invite her for a full Hogsmeade trip together (and _alone_ ) just to break the news. The rational side of her brain pointed out it was probably his way of showing his gratitude for her help. The _irrational_ side, the one who'd always short circuit every time she was talking to James, blubbered out that perhaps James just wanted to genuinely spend time with her.

' _No, no, no,'_ she told herself countless times, every time her thoughts would stray in that direction.

She spent the remaining hours clearing her mind and calming herself down. Once her small clock struck seven, Hermione hauled herself out of bed and started to get ready.

Hermione rarely took long dressing for the day, but for some strange reason, she had a difficult time choosing what to wear. The 70's fashion still made her nose wrinkle a bit, since she mostly found the Muggle clothes too loud and extravagant. Anya still bought Hermione clothes the brunette knew she would never wear, but she didn't have the heart to tell her excited mother.

As she opened her trunk and scanned through her array of clothes, Hermione started to have a mini panic at the thought that she had _nothing_ decent to wear. _'All right, calm down, all right,'_ she told herself, taking in a deep breath and closing her eyes. Her fingers ran through the different clothes, blindly pulling random garments and tossing them on her bed.

Hermione finally decided to wear a blue plaid jumper dress over a black turtleneck sweater. It was terribly cold outside since it was autumn, so she also pulled on some black tights to warm her legs.

By the time she was done, she clambered towards the full-length mirror in their room and blinked, surprised that she didn't look awkward in her clothes. As expected from a previous Pureblood socialite, Anya knew how to dress properly, even with Muggle fashion.

The brunette finally glanced at her voluminous hair and worried her bottom lip, wondering what she would do with it. There was a tub of Sleekeazy's in her trunk, so maybe it wouldn't hurt if she applied a few scoops on her hair just to tame it down.

Catching her thoughts, Hermione's hand climbed up to the bridge of her nose and massaged it in exhaustion. _'This isn't a bloody date,'_ a voice sniped snidely in her ear. _'You don't need to do such a ridiculous thing.'_

In the end, she decided to just tie her hair into a long braid just to get it out of her face.

The door suddenly burst open and Hermione flinched, craning her neck over her shoulder to stare sheepishly at Dorothy.

"Blimey, Hermione, you're a sight for sore eyes!" the sweet witch tittered, appreciatively glancing at the brunette from head to toe. A teasing smile bloomed on her face. "Are you going on a date today?"

"NO!" she exclaimed almost immediately. Dorothy quirked an eyebrow at her vehemence, prompting Hermione to blush and look away. "It's not like that."

The other Ravenclaw hummed, looking like she didn't believe her at all. "So, anyway, I just came back to tell you that James Potter's been lurking in front of the Tower," she said, that knowing grin still on her face.

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. "What?" she gasped, glancing at her small clock once more and noting it was only nine in the morning. "But it's too early!"

Dorothy quirked an amused eyebrow as Hermione gathered her things and stumbled out of the dormitory. The airy common room was still packed with students, because it was _weird_ to get to Hogsmeade earlier than ten in the morning. Most were still lazing around and hanging out with their friends. Of course, since she was in the Ravenclaw Common Room, there were diligent students buried under huge tomes of books at the desks.

Her footsteps faltered as she neared the entrance door. Hermione nervously tugged the ends of her braid, calming herself down. She told herself again and again that this was just some harmless hanging out between two friends. Granted, one had an irrational crush on the other, but that was beside the point. The point was, James was already dating Lily and he wanted to thank Hermione for helping him finally win the girl.

Mustering the Gryffindor courage she knew she had never lost, Hermione pushed the door open and stepped outside.

It was easy to find James, his form now towering over the other scuttling fourth years behind him. He was pacing, deeply nervous as he kept on running a hand through his hair, ruining whatever style he had worn prior to arriving. James hadn't noticed her yet and Hermione faltered, her blue eyes secretly admiring the clothes he had chosen to compliment his looks. James and Sirius had started dressing in a mixture of Muggle and Wizarding clothes alike; something about rebelling, Sirius had once pointed out.

Today, James was wearing Muggle jeans and a rich, burgundy turtle neck she knew would have cost a fortune. Draped over his shoulders were thick, silk midnight blue casual robes, she didn't doubt would feel very soft to touch.

Merlin, he was annoyingly dashing today. Hermione bit her bottom lip to stop a groan from bursting out.

"Hi," she called out instead.

James suddenly skidded to a halt and twisted around, facing Hermione completely. Unfiltered surprise crossed his features as he beheld her, his hazel eyes painstakingly drifting from her head to toe, before snapping quickly back to her eyes. "You look… um, I mean…" He trailed off and ran another nervous hand through his hair.

Hermione's heart fluttered at his reaction, secretly pleased that she had chosen to dress up today.

For _him_ , Merlin help her. Hermione Granger would be very disappointed with her.

She dispelled such thoughts and gave him a small smile in greeting. "You're here early," she pointed out. "I thought you said we'd meet at 10?"

His face flushed, a sheepish smile growing. "I woke up very early today," he confessed. "Couldn't sleep even if I tried. So I decided to get ready and – well – here I am."

Hermione looked at him in surprise, unsure how to interpret his words. She did _exactly_ the same thing this morning, with reasons she knew she shouldn't have. Was James that excited to tell her that Lily had finally agreed to date him?

_Or…_

' _Shut up, Hermione,'_ that same snide voice snapped inside her head.

Slightly frowning, Hermione strode forward. James's eyes snapped back at her, hardening with a certain intensity at each step she took.

"Um," Hermione said, nervously tugging the ends of her braid once more, "maybe we should get going?"

James took a sharp intake of breath. "Yeah," he breathlessly whispered, "Good idea."

Their walk towards the thestral-drawn carriages was unbearably awkward. She and James had always slipped into easy conversation before, but there was something about today that made everything odd and uncomfortable.

Such was her desperation to at least do _something_ , that when they reached the carriages, her hand automatically touched the skeleton horse by her carriage and gave him a small pat.

James looked at her weirdly. "What are you doing?" he asked, knitting his eyebrows together.

"Oh, just silently telling him he's been a good boy for working so hard," she said with a small laugh.

"What?"

The Gryffindor looked marvellously confused, and that was when Hermione realised he still couldn't see the thestrals. "You never knew the carriages were drawn by thestrals?" she asked, trying to rack her brain for any mention of them during their previous Care of Magical Creatures classes.

"Oh, I know," he said, blindly reaching forward near Hermione's hand. He flinched back almost instantly upon touching something solid. " _Blimey_ , I used to think the carriages were autonomous, spelled to transport students to and from the school premises." After a short pause, he glanced back at Hermione. "You see them?"

She smiled sadly and nodded her head.

"Ah, right, of course," he said, ruffling his hair whilst flashing her an apologetic smile. "I remember fondly how Peter almost shite himself the first time we rode the carriage together. He's the only one who can see them amongst the four of us."

Her smile turned sadder, her heart growing heavier, knowing that in a few years, the four Marauders would all be able to see the thestrals in their skeleton, black-eyed, winged-form glory.

"And, we've actually made everything depressing," James joked, a laugh bubbling out. "Come on. No time for those. It's Hogsmeade weekend!"

She echoed his laugh and instantly climbed in the carriage, faltering a bit when James deftly held her hand to help her climb. Her cheeks flushed redder at his offhanded gesture. She couldn't see how he looked right now since she was busy looking away and willing her cheeks to return to their normal colour.

Conversation was easier then. James told her the exact details of how they had pranked Madame Pince and gotten themselves banned from the library for a month. "Too bad we can't attend your study sessions now," James pointed out with a relieved grin.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "We can always find another place to study," she interjected. "Like the abandoned Charms classroom where I taught you how to play the guitar. _Or_ , maybe I can invite you over to the Ravenclaw Common Room. We have really nice study desks, you know. I'm sure my housemates wouldn't mind."

James made a face and loudly groaned. "Hermione, please, _spare_ me," he beseeched. "It's Hogsmeade weekend! Can we not talk about studying for now?"

"Well, okay, I can do that," she said with a huff. "Just remember that you have to start your fifth-year coverage for Arithmancy if you want to get an 'A' for that subject."

"Hermione," he groaned in misery, prompting Hermione to start laughing at the ridiculous look on his face.

" _Blimey_ , you and your friends are so predictable," she laughingly claimed. "As soon as I start talking about studying, you're reduced to whiny five-year-olds."

His eyes glinted in amusement, his petulant frown melting into a small smile. "Merlin, I can't imagine how we'd have survived our Hogwarts years without you, Hermione," he earnestly said.

The brunette's eyes widened a bit at his words. James survived his Hogwarts years without her _before_ ; he grew up with his friends, wreaked havoc in Hogwarts, fell in love with Lily, and graduated in one piece. She wanted to tell him that he could survive through seven years at Hogwarts without her, that he'd done it _before_ , but surely, she would sound barmy. He may have said those words without much thought, but it had a great impact on Hermione.

She'd been so deeply entangled with all of their lives - the Marauders, Lily and Sev, and even Regulus - and she had arrived at a startling truth she had never realised before: she couldn't imagine her life without them either.

As much as she loved Harry and Ron and everything Hermione Granger had been, Hermione Pettigrew had grown up in this world, surrounded by people who unwaveringly loved and supported her. It was inevitable that Hermione would fall in love with this world and everything it had given her.

She had been Hermione Pettigrew for sixteen years already and Merlin Almighty, she felt like she truly belonged in this world.

"Hey," James called, his face swimming back into her vision. "Everything all right?"

"Yes," Hermione replied with a kind smile. "I just realised something important today."

His gaze grew questioning, but Hermione merely shook her head. "It doesn't matter," she dismissed. "Look, we're nearing Hogsmeade now."

The thestral slowed into a trot until he stopped all together. James quickly jumped down from the carriage and offered his hand again. This time, Hermione blinked at him in surprise.

"Err, Pureblood etiquette and all that shite, Hermione," James pointed out with a nervous laugh. He shook his hand. "It doesn't bite, I promise."

Hermione snorted, relieved he wasn't making this more awkward between the two of them, and gingerly placed her hand on top of his. His hand was warm and calloused, no doubt from years of gripping a wooden broom. A blush bloomed on her cheeks once more, as he deftly helped her down, immediately retrieving his hand once Hermione's feet were firmly on the ground.

"Where to first?" James casually asked, his eyes scanning the town. Students were still scarce, seeing that it was still earlier than usual.

"Scrivenshaft's?" she suggested with a sheepish smile. "Sixth year essays demand more length and my parchment supply is dwindling so…"

James laughed and steered Hermione towards said shop.

Predictably, there were only one or two customers inside. James left Hermione alone, much to her relief. It was uncomfortable for her when people were hovering over her shoulder whilst she bought her things, most especially books. She always had this feeling they wanted her to make haste, and Hermione ended up panic buying, forgetting, or regretting her purchases in the end.

She grabbed a few spare quills and more ink wells, pulled out some rolls of parchment, and bought some more for her friends who would be taking their NEWTs this year.

By the time she was done, Hermione scanned the small shop in search of James's messy mop of hair. She soon saw him near the different displays of quality quills from various kinds of animals.

He glanced at her when Hermione sauntered beside him. "Which do you think is better, an eagle quill or a peacock quill?" he asked.

"In terms of what?"

"Durability, style, weight… all that stuff," he said with a deft shrug. "I figured you'd know something about these things since you study a lot."

Hermione snorted. "Any quill for me will do, honestly," she pointed out. "But… if you're really interested, well, I read that eagle quills are quite durable, but they're plain and a little heavy. Peacock quills" – she grimaced – "I think it's more for aesthetic use than for actual writing." The brunette paused and glanced over at the displayed quills, then smiled upon finding the one she'd been searching for. Her fingertips brushed the soft tip of a black and gold quill and continued. "If you really want a quill with the best quality, I suggest you go for turkey quills. They're _very_ light, so it's useful for speedy note-taking. It doesn't break easily either and they're not too plain like an eagle quill or too gaudy like a peacock quill. It's very costly, though, so there's a con."

She jerked away when James lifted the turkey quill from its stand, keenly inspecting it with bright eyes. "Figures you'd know something about quills and their merits," he said with a teasing grin. "All right, I'll take this. Thanks, Hermione."

She trailed behind him whilst he paid for his purchase.

"Where to next?" he asked.

Hermione lifted her purchases in the air. "I've already bought what I wanted to," she said with a shrug. "Where do you want to go next?"

"Zonko's?"

He guffawed when Hermione made a face. "Fine," she said with an exaggerated sigh. "Since you came with me to Scrivenshaft's."

"Zonko's isn't so bad," he interjected, striding towards the joke shop. "It actually sells nifty stuff. I know most view it as useless, but they don't know how to put the stuff to good use."

"Like using it to pull an elaborate prank?" she pointed out with a snort.

"That and more," he answered, a wide grin on his face. "Come on, I'm sure you've at least found them useful before, Hermione."

She was instantly brought back to the horcrux hunt, and how the Weasley twins' invention of jokes and tricks had come in handy. It was a shame their inventions weren't present yet; Hermione could have really used some Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder or Extendable Ears during this time.

It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the burst of multi-coloured light when they entered the joke shop. A bell merrily tinkled above when James pushed the door open. She bit back a smile when his face instantly lit up with wonder and excitement. Although he had considerably mellowed down as the years passed by, and the Marauders' obnoxious, elaborate pranks really had become less frequent, there was no doubt that this was James Potter's favourite shop in the whole town.

As opposed to their small trip to Scrivenshaft's, Hermione kept close to James as he scoured the whole shop. She distastefully eyed the Nose-Biting Cups, having fallen victim to those once when Peter had thought she was being incorrigible. Her eyes widened when James scooped up a handful of Dungbombs and placed them inside a basket.

"I hope you're not going to use those on Sev," she said in a warning tone.

"Of course not," James replied with a laugh. "It's for Filch and Peeves."

"Should I be concerned?" Hermione asked, when James bounded towards the shelf which displayed Frog-Spawn Soap.

"If you steer clear of the second floor next week, then you shouldn't be," he pointed out with a wicked grin, placing stacks and stacks of the joke item inside the basket.

"But you're _Head Boy_ ," she exclaimed. "You can't possibly pull off an elaborate prank and set a bad example to your constituents."

James snorted at her words and grabbed a few Sugar Quills. "I won't be there _physically_ , if that worries you," he said, sending a wink her way when Hermione bristled. "Relax, Hermione. This will be a harmless prank, I promise. It's just that we'll be graduating soon and we wanted to leave with a _blast_. Hogwarts will never forget the Marauders once we graduate."

"You might be seventh years, but you still might get _expelled_ , blimey," she protested.

The Head Boy pulled out his wand and playfully pointed it at Hermione. "If you plan on intervening, I might be forced to _Obliviate_ you," he said seriously, the previously handsome smile on his face now falling into a thin line.

Hermione batted his hand away and harrumphed, striding towards the counter with her head held high. She heard James snickering whilst trailing behind her.

"No one's going to get hurt," he promised, now depositing the contents of his basket on the counter. He lifted his right hand and earnestly stared down at Hermione. "No bullying, no goading people to the brink of their deaths. Marauder's honour and _Merlin_ , that's the highest honour. You know that, _Whiskers_."

His grin was stretched wide when Hermione rolled her eyes.

When they walked out of the shop, James this time didn't ask for Hermione's suggestion on where they'd go next. Instead, he directed her towards Honeydukes. The whole place was busier than the other two shops they'd visited, students now swarming in and excitedly grabbing onto the new candies boasted inside. Hermione ignored them all and sauntered towards the toffee section and grabbed a few that would last her for at least a month. Her trunk was still bursting from Peter's payment, after it was discovered that Hermione had gotten _all_ 'O's for her OWLs – finally earning a rightful 'O' for DADA, much to her delight.

To her surprise, James also grabbed a handful of toffees and placed them inside a basket filled with assorted sweets. "You like toffees too?" she asked, surprised. As far as she knew, she was the only one who was obsessed with them amongst their group of friends. They usually went for the more popular ones, like Chocolate Frogs and Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.

James's cheeks dusted with pink and he merely gave her a half-hearted shrug.

They paid for their purchases, with Hermione's eyes popping out of their sockets at the amount of galleons James had to pay for his. He had bought that expensive turkey quill and those expensive joke items, after all. Hermione's pouch was already getting lighter and lighter as the day passed by, but James never seemed to have the same problem as her.

"Old Pureblood," was his mere explanation upon seeing Hermione's wide eyes.

"Your parents spoil you too much," Hermione tutted.

"They _love_ me," he interjected. "Too much, quite honestly. And besides, our Gringotts vault is constantly restocked, thanks to Dad's Sleekeazy's. It'd be a waste not to spend the galleons now, eh?"

Hermione rolled her eyes this time, once again finding it quite unfair that Harry had never had the luxury his father had during his youth. But then again, maybe if Harry had been raised the same way as James, he'd be a pompous toerag, too. Hermione firmly believed that would have been a disaster.

"Do you still need to buy something?" James asked once they were out in the open. Hermione unconsciously scanned the growing crowd, trying to search for any familiar faces.

When she didn't see any of her friends, she shook her head and looked at James. "I'm all good," she said.

James glanced at his wristwatch and grinned. "Fancy some lunch now?"

Hermione nodded and followed James when he directed them towards the Three Broomsticks. Her eyes roamed around the pub, this time packed with students, but once again, she didn't see any of her friends or even her brother.

The bespectacled wizard chose a large enough booth for them to sit at. While he walked towards Madame Rosmerta to order them drinks, Hermione peeked at the swarming people inside the pub.

She thought it was mighty suspicious when both Lily and Sev bailed on her at the last minute. She was meaning to treat them to celebrate her full 'O's on her OWLs, but they both claimed they had something else to do. She knew Lily would be coming to Hogsmeade today, because she had been relentlessly telling Hermione about this Muggle outfit she bought last summer, swearing she'd definitely wear it on their first Hogsmeade trip.

Still, there was no sign of Lily or Sev, prompting Hermione to sigh.

Just before she turned around, the door of the Three Broomsticks opened and in came Peter with a laughing Mary MacDonald beside him. Hermione ducked behind and strained her ears, observing Peter and his date as they chose a seat on the opposite side of the pub to where she was.

However, curiosity got the best of her, and _really,_ she wanted to know why Peter liked this girl so much. Hermione wanted to know as much as possible, so she could blurt it all out to Anya. Her mother had been pestering them to bring over a girlfriend or boyfriend for years. This would surely delight her mother.

The booth behind them was blessedly empty and Hermione instantly slipped inside it.

"… didn't know you'd been seriously studying for NEWTs!" Mary exclaimed, followed by a lovely laugh that Hermione knew she could never pull off.

"My sister's been bloody persistent, but she means well," Peter sheepishly replied. "She even made colour-coded schedules for me and the others, just so we would take our studies seriously this year."

"As expected from the brightest witch of her age," the Gryffindor witch said, a tinge of awe in her tone. Hermione's cheeks flushed a bit at her golden words.

"That's really what people call her now, isn't it?" her brother asked bemusedly. "But it suits her nonetheless. She's always been the better Pettigrew sibling."

Hermione frowned. Peter still thought that?

"That's not true!" Mary exclaimed with a vehemence Hermione never would have thought the sweet girl possessed. "You're brilliant with – what was that Muggle thing you called again – snailboard?"

"Skateboard?" Peter asked, bemused.

"Yes! That! I bet your sister doesn't know how to use that."

Her brother was roaring with laughter and even though she couldn't see him, she knew his blue eyes would be bright with amusement. "She's _pants_ at that," he revealed. "I tried to teach her one summer, but Hermione doesn't really have decent hand-eye coordination. She's not exactly sporty, you know."

"Insulting you behind your back? Well that's not very nice."

Hermione swivelled around at hearing James's voice. He was grinning down at her while clutching two bottles of butterbeer in his hands.

"Shh," she furiously said, clutching onto his arm and pulling him down beside her.

"Spying on your brother and his date isn't nice either," James pointed out.

Hermione's cheeks flushed, lightly glaring at the amused Gryffindor. "I got curious," she explained in a low voice. "I'm not really friends with Mary, so I'm not sure if she'll take proper care of my brother."

James's eyes softened at the obvious concern in her blue eyes. "Mary's a riot," James said with a comforting smile. "She sits beside Lily and Marlene McKinnon during classes, if it helps. She's very nice too."

She remembered her answer to Peter's claim that his sister was the better Pettigrew sibling and smiled. "I figured," she said with a small nod.

"So, did Mary pass your sibling test?" James teased.

Hermione softly laughed. "With flying colours."

**-ooo-**

They stayed in the Three Broomsticks for the remaining afternoon talking about endless things. James, like Lily, never seemed to run out of words to say. Hermione listened with rapt attention, replying in the right places, and earnestly laughing when he made a joke.

It was a nice not-date and Hermione reluctantly admitted to herself that spending time with James alone wasn't so bad after all. Her initial nervousness had simmered down into random awkward silences, when James would lean a little closer or accidentally brush his fingers against hers. She believed they were unintended, of course, because James still acted the same, _treated_ her the same as always.

She then froze in surprise when Peter and Mary suddenly stood up from the booth they were at. James looked suspiciously terrified and fully turned his body towards Hermione, to shield her completely from Peter's gaze. She was sure her brother would curse her endlessly for eavesdropping on his date, especially when he seemed to have had so much fun and had let himself loose a bit. Hermione was wildly amused at his stupid flirting, which Mary soaked up like an oasis after travelling through a long, dry desert.

Neither of the two Gryffindors gave them a single glance though, too enraptured in a conversation about something Hermione didn't catch. She slowly peeked above James's shoulder to see if they were finally gone. Once they had stepped out of the pub, Hermione visibly relaxed.

"The coast is clear," she said with a low chuckle.

Hermione made a mistake by glancing up at James's face, discovering that he was now pressed closely to her, his face a hairsbreadth away from hers.

She froze for the second time that day, but for an entirely different reason.

James stared at her with an intensity she'd seen him wear before. His hazel eyes hardened with an unknown emotion, the brown almost engulfing the green. His pink lips were set into a thin, hard line and his jaw was tensed, like he was trying to hold himself back.

But from what?

Hermione felt herself flushing and immediately pushed him away. "They're gone," she breathed out and looked away from his confusing gaze. "Maybe it's time we go back too?"

James didn't move for a few more seconds and Hermione grew worried. Out of the corner of her eyes, she watched as the Head Boy shook himself from whatever reverie he was in and swiftly nodded his head to concur with her.

He slid out of the booth and Hermione followed, trailing uncertainly behind him.

The suffocating tension that had blanketed over them prior to the carriage ride appeared once more. James was walking stiffly, his hands clenched by his side, and Hermione couldn't understand why his mood had suddenly changed.

As the thestral-drawn carriages came into view, Hermione remembered the real reason why she had agreed to come to Hogsmeade with him.

"You said you wanted to tell me something today," she blurted out, slightly desperate to break the tense silence between them. James's footsteps faltered and Hermione took that as a sign to continue. "We're about to leave Hogsmeade and you still haven't told me what it was."

James drew into a full stop and deliberately turned around to look at her. His cheeks were flushed red and there was firm resoluteness in his eyes. "Hermione, I—" He paused, blew a frustrated breath, and ran a hand through his hair. "Godric, this is more difficult than what I originally thought."

She didn't understand why telling her about his new relationship with Lily was hard for him. She would have waited for him to compose himself and to draw courage, but Hermione was inexplicably exhausted all of a sudden. She wanted to go back to her room, lie down on her bed, and to pray for the umpteenth time for these ridiculous feelings for this ridiculous boy to cease.

"You're dating Lily, aren't you?" She said it more matter-of-factly than questioningly, secretly trampling down whatever lump was forming in her throat.

James's hazel eyes widened in surprise before they slowly narrowed in genuine confusion. "Evans?" he asked.

Hermione petulantly tugged the ends of her braid and sighed. "Lily told me she's seeing someone," she elaborated. "And honestly, you two have been acting strange ever since the start of the school year so I _figured_. It is inevitable, after all. Everyone's been waiting for Lily to crack and to agree to go out with you. Since both of you are Heads and sharing a dormitory, not to mention how you're actually more tolerable to be with nowadays, it was only a matter of time."

Her voice had grown unbelievably quiet as the words tumbled out of her mouth. Hermione _hated_ whatever she was feeling right now, knowing that this wasn't right – Lily and James were supposed to be together. In a few years, they'd be married and they'd have Harry Potter. That was all that really mattered to Hermione.

But then, to her utmost surprise, James expelled a disbelieving laugh. Hermione's eyes snapped back to him in confusion and scowled in silent indignation at being laughed at.

"Where the bloody hell did that conclusion come from?" he asked, his hazel eyes glinting brilliantly under the orange sky.

"What?"

"Hermione, whoever Lily Evans is seeing right now, it's most definitely _not_ me," he explained, the corner of his lips still twitching with obvious amusement. "Lily's old news. Honest."

" _What_?" she asked once more, now downright confused.

James was suddenly striding towards her, too close, too _near_ , and Hermione took a few steps back. "For someone hailed as the brightest witch of her age, you're mighty obtuse today, Hermione," he cajoled.

Her face flushed red at his teasing. "Excuse me?" she asked in offense.

The Head Boy ran a hand through his hair once more as his face turned splotchy red. "Bloody hell, you're really making me say it out loud, Whiskers," he said with a nervous chuckle. When Hermione blankly stared at him, James expelled a soft sigh. "I've been seeing you in a different light lately, Hermione, and I really, _truly_ want to get to know you better."

Her heart skidded into a brief halt, his words ringing wildly inside her ears. She tried to piece his words together, trying to make sense of whatever he had just told her. Her heartbeat then jumpstarted, its pace harder and stronger, as realisation dawned.

" _What_?" was all her jumbled brain could come up with.

"Blimey, I _like_ you, Hermione Pettigrew," James implored, almost exasperatedly. "More than a friend. More than Peter's little sister. I like you as… as… _you_."

Thunderous noises erupted inside her brain and Hermione couldn't properly think. She blindly took a few more steps back, just to let herself breathe properly, but her back soon collided with the railing and she was trapped.

Pathetically, she merely stared at James. She had no idea what expression she was making right now, but judging from James's wounded look, she hazarded it wasn't a pleasant one. "But Lily—"

"There is _no_ Lily," he whispered firmly, his eyes hardening once more with that familiar intensity she now realised was because of _her_. "For a few months now. There hasn't been any Lily anymore. You're—" He thickly swallowed and turned his gaze away. "You're always in my head, Hermione. Popping up at the weirdest of times and I've tried to brush it off because bloody fucking hell, you're Peter's _sister_ , and Peter will surely kill me if he knows I've been having inappropriate thoughts about his sister and—"

He clamped his mouth tightly, his words registering promptly. James's eyes grew wide in horror and his face turned red for the umpteenth time. "Merlin's ballsacks, I didn't intend to say that," he groaned.

James took a deep shuddering breath and deflated, his hazel eyes turning earnest – _resigned_ even – and gave her a small, handsome smile that always made her breath hitch. "I really like you, Hermione," he continued, calmer this time. "It's mighty insane, I know. But I really do. And – well – judging from your face, I may have fucked things up by confessing."

Hermione tried to come up with something decent to say, to tell him that he surely, _surely_ fucked everything up now that her stupid, unwarranted crush for him wasn't one-sided at all. But, all she managed to say was, "You didn't."

Hope blossomed in his beautiful hazel eyes and Hermione wanted to run away. "But, this isn't right," she insisted, panic now rising and seizing her whole. "Lily will be— I mean— I need… I need some time. To think. _Clearly_ , about all of this."

"Waiting," he said, vigorously nodding his head. "Right, of course, you want me to wait. Better than a blatant no, I guess." And then James was nervously laughing - it was painful to watch.

He managed to cajole her towards the carriage so they could return to Hogwarts. All the way, the journey was painfully awkward and quiet. James insisted on walking her back to the Ravenclaw Tower and Hermione mutely agreed, mechanically walking beside him as he guided her back to her common room.

Hogwarts felt like it was shrinking, the whole castle awfully cramped and claustrophobic, when all Hermione wanted was to run far away from this ridiculous, perplexing, _mesmerising_ boy.

It almost felt like an eternity when they finally reached the Ravenclaw Tower. Hermione had to bite her lip from sobbing in relief. Instead, she mumbled a hasty goodbye to James and climbed inside, not even craning over her shoulder to look back.

Hermione didn't bother changing from her clothes. She plopped down on her bed, drew the curtains, and stared at her canopy. The thunderous noises in her head had now calmed down, replaced by an uncomfortable panic.

This wasn't supposed to happen. She had long accepted that she was attracted to James Potter, but _surely_ it would pass. But for James to confess that he liked her too in that way – for Hermione to realise that Lily was most likely dating somebody else and not _James_ …

Well, she was completely and utterly fucked.

She fell into a fitful sleep, dreaming of blood and screams and Dark Marks and red eyes. The red eyes soon morphed into green, and she was staring once more at Harry - her Harry. "Live a happy life, Hermione," he whispered with his crooked smile, reaching forward to let his fingertips graze her cheek.

Green eyes then turned into hazel – eyes that plagued her during the darkest of nights – his lips pink and parted and tempting. "Hermione," he whispered, drawing closer and closer until the softness of James's lips were pressed against hers.

Hermione's eyes snapped open as her hand snaked to her chest and willed her heart to calm down. Dumbly, she stared at the canopy, unable to sleep anymore until sunlight stubbornly broke through her curtains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope you still love me hehe.
> 
> I know I've said this a thousand times before, but thank you so much for taking your time to read this fic. I'm in a bit of a slump as of late – I think my impending internship next week is largely to blame. So this fic was my only happiness during this ridiculous time. I'm almost finish writing this fic, but I'm in a bit of a writer's block too so hopefully I'll get over that soon. Don't worry, though, because I can still afford daily updates. I'm going to inform you if ever the update schedule changes.
> 
> See you tomorrow! That's it for now.
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr! (kimmy-writes). I really reply there more so if you're itching to ask a question, you can drop by my blog ahahaha.


	23. chapter twenty-two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 500 kudos! Ack, thank you so much!

* * *

**xxii.**

_**you can make me wait forever** _

(1000 Times by Sara Bareilles)

* * *

**September 30, 1977**

James was blessedly, _suspiciously_ , normal the following days after the disastrous Hogsmeade trip.

Hermione couldn't sleep all throughout the night due to a mixture of panic and grief and other feelings she could not understand. She worried herself sick too and locked herself inside the Ravenclaw Tower for the whole day just to avoid James, and any of her friends, really.

Monday came too soon and Hermione had no choice but to haul her arse out of her hiding place. She skipped breakfast that day, only popping a few toffees in her mouth to give her a bit of sugar, and breezed through her morning lessons.

By the time lunch time came, Hermione's stomach was already protesting. She knew she couldn't skip it this time, knowing that this would arise suspicion from her best friends and even Peter.

She kept her head down all throughout the journey, mechanically plopping down on a vacant seat in the Ravenclaw table, and started piling food on her plate. Lily and Sev immediately arrived, the former voicing her questions on Hermione's whereabouts since yesterday.

"I wasn't feeling well yesterday," she said, which technically wasn't a lie.

Lily grew worried and placed the back of her hand against her forehead. "You're not sick," she pointed out matter-of-factly.

Hermione lightly batted her hand away. "I feel better now," she insisted.

Sev peered closer at her face and frowned. "Have you been sleeping properly?" he asked, also growing a tad concerned. " _Merlin_ , have you been staying up all night just to study again, Pettigrew? It isn't your NEWTs year and blimey, it's only been a month since we came back."

"I'm fine," she cried in exhaustion. "Can I please eat in peace now?"

She ignored the bemused glance Lily and Sev shared and focused on filling her stomach. She resolutely stopped herself from glancing at the Gryffindor table, knowing full well that James was there. She'd heard his voice – laughing over something her brother had said – and he was boisterous and obnoxious like he typically was.

Thankfully, she steered clear of him that day too, and the next, and the day after that. The initial panic James's confession had brought to her had simmered down into an uncomfortable itch in her brain. There were times when she'd have to tamper it down to keep her emotions at bay, but once she was alone with her thoughts, they would all burst free and she'd be panicky once more.

The bigger problem, she admitted, was perhaps her heart. To know that her feelings were reciprocated made her heart flutter pleasantly inside her chest. Then her brain would loudly tell her to stop whatever foolishness she was doing and her heart would gently goad her to take a peek, to see if he was all right, to wonder if he would really wait for her answer.

Now, Hermione was usually logical. Her rational side trumped whatever illogical feeling she sometimes had. This was an important part of her that had kept her and her friends alive after all. Harry had often told her that if it weren't for her brains, he'd be dead by their first year.

But, Hermione was also wholehearted. When she felt things, she felt it deeply and strongly. This was the side of her that had cried her eyes out in the girls' bathroom when she'd overheard two buffoons claiming she was annoying. Or the side of her who was swayed by Ron, blue eyes, freckles, humour and all. This was also the side who steadfastly stayed by Harry Potter, after all the years of hardships and pain, because she loved him like he was her own brother.

And so, this whole James Potter thing was a conundrum. The logical side of her kept on placing down facts as to why this was bad news. Unsurprisingly, the fact that Harry Potter would not exist was at the very forefront.

The wholehearted side whispered that she just wanted to be happy.

This went on for days and Hermione knew crossing paths with James was inevitable.

The Marauders were bloody serious with their studies this year because of their NEWTs. Peter was a nervous wreck, knowing that more than the OWLs, this year could make or break his dream of becoming an Auror. As usual, Remus was the less rigid among the four when studying, because he wasn't planning on becoming an Auror anyway. Sirius was – well – _Sirius_ and then, there was James.

When she spied the group sauntering inside the library, silently horsing around until Remus had to shush them, Hermione's back had snapped ramrod straight. Her jaw was set, her eyes wide and wild, and she had been mercilessly worrying her bottom lip. James brought up the rear of the group, too busy scanning a parchment in his hands.

Peter greeted her with a hug and slid down on the seat beside her. Remus gave her a kind smile while Sirius winked. "Miss us, Whiskers?" the smug wizard asked.

Hermione merely rolled her eyes and wordlessly glanced down at her textbook once more. She tried to start reading and to ignore the wizards all together, but much to her horror, James chose to sit on the chair across from her.

"All right, Hermione?"

She stiffened at his address, unsure how to answer his question. Hermione slowly lifted her eyes towards him and tried to decipher what he was feeling. James was coolly look at her, his mesmerising eyes never betraying any emotion besides mild amusement.

"Yes," she breathed out, realising her silence had stretched too long.

James lightly smiled at her and went back to scanning his parchment.

Hermione suspiciously stared at him, waiting for another quip that would broach their conversation they'd had back at Hogsmeade, but James started to pull out his things from his bag to study.

The brunette reluctantly went back to her textbook and blocked any external distractions. Good thing this was an Arithmancy textbook; Hermione soon found herself lost in the sea of words.

She jotted down notes on her parchment, her fingers furiously gripping the stem of the quill to quickly put her thoughts into words. Such was her grip that the stem of her eagle quill broke in two. "Damn it," she hissed, blindly rummaging inside her backpack in search of a spare quill.

A handsome black quill with golden strands was then pushed towards her. Hermione instantly recognised it as the turkey quill James had bought during Hogsmeade weekend.

Blinking in surprise, her blue eyes landed on James. He was smiling at her in amusement, his hazel eyes trained intently on her broken quill. "Well, somebody once told me turkey quills are the finest ones," he said, gesturing at the quill in front of her.

His hazel eyes then shifted to her face and Hermione felt a blush creeping up from her chest.

"Thanks," she murmured, hastily glancing down at her parchment and grabbing onto the turkey quill. It was soft and light to touch, and Hermione was almost hesitant to use it. She was aware how tightly she gripped her quills, and this one in her hand had cost a fortune!

"They're durable," James whispered, bemused with how she deliberately scratched on her parchment. "It won't break easy. Promise."

Hermione wordlessly nodded and focused once more on her homework.

A few hours passed by without much of a hitch. The next time Hermione tore her gaze away from her parchment was when Peter touched her elbow. Hermione blearily lifted her eyes and glanced at the Marauders, who were all standing already.

"We need to leave first, Hermione," her brother said.

Hermione frowned and glanced at her wristwatch, noting they still had at least two hours before curfew. "Already?" she asked.

"Unlike _some_ , we have other important matters to do, Whiskers," Sirius teased.

She narrowed her eyes, noting the identical excited grins on their faces. When her eyes unwittingly swept on James's, she was surprised to see that he was staring at her, hazel eyes glinting mischievously under the light. Instantly, she remembered their little adventure back at Zonko's, an unending supply of Dungbombs and Frog-Spawn Soap purchased by the Head Boy himself.

"What are you planning to do?" she asked suspiciously.

"No one's going to get hurt," James said with a blinding grin. "Marauder's honour."

Peter snickered under his breath and raised his right hand in mock seriousness. "Marauder's honour," he echoed.

Hermione exasperatedly glanced at Remus. "You're the most sensible of the lot, Remus," she said. "Don't let them do anything stupid."

The werewolf apologetically smiled at Hermione. "This is too good an opportunity to pass, Hermione," he claimed. "I'm sorry."

The brunette softly groaned. " _Fine_ , do whatever you want," she snarled. "If you get expelled, don't expect me to come to your aid."

"Aww, come now, Whiskers, no one's getting expelled," Sirius said with a soft bark of laughter. "Dumbledore loves us too much to let us go without graduating."

Hermione grimaced. That was entirely true. They'd been obnoxious during the previous years and Hermione was honestly expecting graver punishments than mere detentions and the deduction of House points. But she sometimes saw the twinkling delight in the Headmaster's eyes every time the Marauders pulled off an elaborate prank.

"Don't study too much," were Peter's parting words, throwing his arm over her shoulders for a one-armed hug.

Remus and Sirius also bid their goodbyes and followed the sandy-haired boy. Hermione lightly smiled at James for her goodbye and glanced down at her parchment.

Two toffee candies were suddenly slid in front of her. Surprised, she snapped her eyes back up, but the Head Boy was already catching up with his friends, sniggering slightly under his breath as they discussed their prank for that night.

Hermione gingerly grabbed one toffee and unwrapped it, suppressing a mighty groan before she popping it inside her mouth.

* * *

**October 1, 1977**

James was driving her mad.

Albeit treating her like normal, like nothing out of the ordinary had happened, he'd suddenly do things – _minuscule_ things – that would put her mind and heart into a frenzy. Hermione was positively sure he was doing all of these things purposively, with the intent of tormenting her until she would break and finally, _finally_ agree to his plea of going out with him more.

He'd do things out of the blue, like how he'd secretly shove toffees into her robe pockets when he thought she wasn't looking, or how he'd sling her bag over his shoulders when the Marauders escorted her back to the Ravenclaw Tower. Sometimes, he'd breach her personal space even for a just a few seconds, his chest pressed so close to her back, like the one time she had been trying to reach for a book on a high shelf and he'd come to the rescue. There were also moments when his hand would linger closely on her lower back when they'd meander through a crowded corridor.

She knew they were little things, but they always made her heart beat crazily inside her ribcage.

There were times when she had almost snapped from all of his sweet gestures, but then, she'd seek out Lily, stare at her eyes a little too long, and then calm herself down. _'Harry must live,'_ she had always firmly told herself when James would send her a handsome smile that made her head spin. _'Harry must live.'_

Hermione constantly trailed behind Lily, and by extension Sev, after she discovered that staring at Harry's eyes made her resolute once more. Lily was already noticing her strange behaviour, asking her what was wrong, but Hermione would merely shake her head and smile at her apologetically.

Currently, she was studying with both Lily and Sev and thankfully, there was no Marauder in sight. Hermione was glad Peter and his friends were taking their studies seriously this year, but she did want to have some sanity break from James and his mesmerising eyes.

"Professor Slughorn's driving you insane," Lily hissed under her breath, glaring daggers at the parchment Severus was currently poring himself over.

Hermione snapped out of her thoughts about James Potter and glanced over Sev's notes. It was no doubt another set of instructions for brewing a potion that would cost him his meals and his sleep.

"This isn't too bad," Sev defended with a scowl.

"It won't be if you don't become a zombie whilst brewing that potion," Hermione lightly added. Sev glanced at her in confusion, prompting her to laugh. "An inferi, then."

He took offense, his face grimacing at being compared with the dead. "I don't look like an inferi when I'm doing a potions project!" he snarled in indignation.

"Yes, you are, sourpuss," Lily hissed once more, still glaring daggers at the potions instructions.

Sev snorted and started cramming his things inside his bag. "I have to go," he announced. "Slughorn asked to meet me tonight to discuss the potions project and more."

"What does the 'and more' mean?" Hermione asked, quirking her eyebrow in curiosity.

"It _means_ , Slughorn wants to talk about Sev becoming a Potions professor once he graduates, and replacing him," Lily said, a suspiciously proud smile stretching on her face.

Both of Hermione's eyebrows flew up to her hairline. "Really?" she asked.

Sev rolled his eyes, but his cheeks were dusted with pink. "Nothing's sure yet," he snapped, crankily scowling at the redhead. "Besides, I was thinking about becoming a Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. I'm actually quite good at that subject too."

Hermione remembered her sixth year when Snape took over the vacant position of DADA. Although he followed Dolores Umbridge – who was, hands down, the _worst_ of them all – Hermione couldn't deny that he also taught that subject decently.

Sev slung the strap of his bag over his shoulders and gave Hermione a small smile in goodbye. When he turned to Lily, he unconsciously bent down. The redhead was already tilting her head, halfway meeting him in the middle, just so he could press a kiss on her lips. "Goodbye," he whispered, his features softening a bit as he gazed down fondly at the pretty redhead. Lily's pink lips stretched into a small smile, her cheeks matching her red hair.

But then, the two seventh years froze, realising that Hermione was sitting across from them. When they looked at her simultaneously, Hermione's jaw was open and her blue eyes had popped out from their sockets. Unfiltered shock painted her pale face.

"Err… surprise," Lily weakly said, her cheeks turning more furiously red. Even Sev looked embarrassed at being caught.

Her voice broke Hermione out of her shocked reverie. "What in Merlin's name—" Her eyes darted to and from the Gryffindor and Slytherin. "How the— I mean, since when?" Her face crumpled imploringly. "Why didn't I know about this?!"

"Calm down, Pettigrew," Sev said with an exhausted sigh, plopping back down on his seat once more. "It isn't even that _long_ when we started to—" He made a series of weird hand gestures between him and Lily, much to the latter's amusement.

"We meant to tell you, Hermione," Lily appeased with an apologetic smile. "After we spent time at your home last summer, things just started to… escalate." The identical blushes on their faces made Hermione wonder as to what extent the relationship had escalated to. "We wanted to tell you on the train ride here, but you were distracted after your encounter with Regulus Black."

Hermione frowned, remembering the train incident. "But it's been a _month_ ," Hermione weakly protested.

"Actually, you've been distracted most of the time," Sev pointed out with a firm frown. "More so these past few days."

She looked away from them. "I just have a lot of things on my mind," she murmured under her breath.

Her hand was suddenly enclosed in Lily's warm ones. "What is really wrong, Hermione?" the redhead earnestly asked, her green eyes melting into worry that Hermione had grown accustomed to.

"Never mind about _me_ ," she quickly dismissed. "What about _you_?" Her eyes comically widened when she glanced back at Lily. "When you said you'd been seeing someone, you meant _Sev_?"

Lily shyly smiled and slowly nodded her head. "I was planning to tell you that day, too," she said, expelling a soft laugh. "But Potter and his posse suddenly came so I lost my chance." She gave Hermione's hand a comforting squeeze. "We didn't really mean to hide it from you, Hermione. We were also a bit worried how, you know, you might feel _left out_."

Hermione glanced at her best friends incredulously. She'd had the same thoughts when she had started going out with Ron, wondering if Harry would feel left out because they shared a relationship he couldn't participate in. She remembered Harry's face, clear as day, when he playfully whacked Ron's head and engulfed Hermione in a big hug, undoubtedly happy for the progress in their relationship. "Are you kidding me?" she said, echoing Harry's words with a brilliant smile. "I think this is lovely! I love you both very much and you must believe me when I say that I'm very happy for you."

Sev deflated in relief, giving Hermione a tentative smile. Lily beamed brightly and stood up from her chair, only to jog towards Hermione to give her a big hug. "I love you, too, Hermione!" she cried passionately, prompting Sev to roll his eyes and Hermione to chuckle with fondness.

When Lily pulled away and sat on the chair beside Hermione, another thought came into her mind. "But James—"

Sev snorted before she could finish her sentence. "He's another reason why we didn't want the whole school to know about our relationship," he explained. A dark scowl appeared on his face. "Potter's a pain-in-the-arse, and I know he'd incessantly pester us. I'm not even going to be surprised if he starts going out of his way to torment me once again."

"No he won't," Hermione blurted out a little too quickly. When two sets of eyes glanced at her questioningly, Hermione flushed and glanced at the top of the table. "I'm sure he won't. James has… well, he's matured from those kinds of things."

How could she possibly tell them that no pestering would happen because James Potter apparently liked _her_ instead?

Lily touched her elbow to get her attention once more. There was something meaningful in her glance, but Hermione couldn't quite decipher it. "I heard he took you out on Hogsmeade Day," she said as a small smile stretched on her face.

Sev quirked an eyebrow. "Alone?" he asked.

"Alone," the Gryffindor said with a slow nod, her smile turning into a teasing one.

Hermione's cheeks flushed, remembering that awful, _awful_ day once again. "It wasn't _that_ kind of thing you're thinking about, Lily Evans," she hotly exclaimed. Lily merely quirked an eyebrow.

With Lily's reminder of that day, the impact of Lily and Sev's new relationship dawned heavily on Hermione. She had been fighting tooth and nail to keep James at arm's length because she knew he _belonged_ to Lily. But what if Lily didn't want to be with him either?

She remembered the silent moments, observing how her best friends looked at each other, and she knew this wasn't just some ridiculous fancy that would pass.

The panic grew in the pit of her stomach once more as she wildly looked at Lily. "But _James—_ "

Lily cut her off with a soft, pretty laugh. "But James what, Hermione?" she asked, her green eyes dancing with amusement. "I'd never go out with a berk like him, you know. He's so _incorrigible_ and yes, yes, okay I admit he's mellowed down. Blimey, he's even _sweet_ to you! I sometimes wondered what would have happened if he'd showed that side of him to me before. I might have actually gone out with him."

Sev threw her a scathing glare, prompting Lily to smile widely. "But of course, I'm stuck with a sourpuss like him," she said, jutting a thumb in his direction. "I shouldn't really complain."

"Thanks, Lily," he drawled.

The redhead merely smiled and wordlessly reached for his hand. A lump grew in Hermione's throat when she noticed the fond gaze they shared.

She wasn't kidding when she had said she loved both of them, like how she had loved Harry. Hermione had sworn she would stick by their side if the need arose. Seeing that they'd be important figures in this war, she also knew she couldn't turn a blind eye once the future caught up with them.

But Harry…

If Lily and Sev got together, then there was a huge possibility that Harry might not even be _born_. That thought threw her into a downward spiral of blind panic and grief. The world wouldn't be the same if there was no Harry Potter.

"Hermione?"

The brunette slowly stared back at her best friend, once again with worry in her eyes.

"You okay?" the redhead asked.

Hermione hoped the smile she gave her wasn't too strained. "I'm fine, Lils," she said, drawing the redhead into a huge hug just to hide the conflicting emotions on her face. "I'm really so happy for you both."

She felt Lily smile against her shoulder as she lifted her arms and wound them around her.

Hermione could see how much happiness Lily and Sev were exuding. She knew she couldn't stomach it if she was the reason why they were torn apart.

**-ooo-**

"Hermione."

"Hmm?"

She heard Lily's soft chuckle as the redhead forced her to lift her chin. "It's almost curfew," the Gryffindor pointed out, her green eyes glinting in amusement.

"Already?" the brunette asked with a frown, glancing at her wristwatch to confirm Lily's words. To her dismay, she only had thirty minutes left. "I'm not yet done with my essay." She smiled when Lily opened her mouth, about to protest. "You go ahead, Lils. I just need to write another paragraph then I'll be good to go."

"Much as I love you endlessly, Hermione, I'm _Head Girl_ ," the older witch said. "I might be forced to deduct points from you if you stay out of bed after curfew."

Hermione bit back a smile, thinking of a similar conversation with the Head Boy a week ago. "I'll be mindful of the time," she promised.

Lily's lips turned into a small frown, before she sighed. "All right," she replied. "I can't wait up for you, though. Potter and I need to discuss some Head stuff."

The Head Girl bent down to give her a goodbye hug. "I'll send Potter your love," she whispered with a teasing smile.

Her cheeks flared at her words, an indignant cry escaping from her lips. Lily merely laughed and gave her another squeeze, before letting go and leaving the library.

Hermione deeply frowned, but shook such distractions away, once again returning to her essay.

Contrary to what she had promised her best friend, Hermione did lose track of time. When she realised this, she noted that she only had ten minutes to sprint from the library to Ravenclaw Tower. Slightly cursing under her breath, she waved her wand to pack her things.

The brunette briskly walked out of the library, intent on reaching her dormitory on time. The corridors were already void of students, the shadows her only companion.

As she reached the great staircases, Hermione paused upon spying a familiar, impeccable head of black curls lurking around. Regulus did not seem to notice her presence as his silver eyes swept throughout the corridor, possibly searching for any signs of Filch or the other professors.

All thoughts of reaching her dormitory on time flew out of the window. Hermione's heart thudded nervously, wondering why _he_ was out of bed. Looking positively anxious and on guard too, if she were to describe his facial expression.

Regulus flew down the staircases with amazing speed and Hermione instantly hid behind a suit of armour. She peeked through, watching as the Slytherin purposively walked towards the entrance door of the castle.

Wherever Regulus was going, it didn't seem like he was going to stay in Hogwarts at all.

Hermione was suddenly fuelled by adrenaline and fear, unthinkably darting out of her hiding place and hastily running towards him.

Her footsteps rang loudly through the empty corridors, drawing attention to herself. Regulus's shoulders instantly tensed as he brandished his wand and turned on his heel.

"Pettigrew," he breathed out in surprise, his eyebrows flying towards his hairline.

"Where in Merlin's name are you going?" she harshly asked. She finally caught up with him and steadily held his gaze. Regulus's eyes immediately hardened into icy blocks, a carefully guarded mask sliding over his face.

"None of your business," he quickly dismissed. "What are _you_ doing out of bed? It's already past curfew."

"I lost track of time while I was studying in the library," she explained.

To her surprise, the corner of his lips twitched, undoubtedly amused. "Of course you did," he murmured.

For a moment, he let his guard down and Hermione felt like she was staring back at an old friend. "Where are you going?" she asked, this time letting her worry be known to the Slytherin.

His emotions shifted behind his mask once more as he coolly stared down at her. "None of your business," he echoed through gritted teeth. "Just go back to your dormitory, Pettigrew."

Hermione darted forwards and clutched his arm before he could slip away. "Regulus," she beseeched.

His eyes flared up furiously as he tried to shake her off, but then, the unmistakable voice of Filch rang from the other end of the corridor. Panic flittered on his face and without thinking, Hermione dragged him towards a secret passage.

"Get off me," he protested, but this only made her grip on him tighten.

Filch and his blasted cat were nowhere to be found when they stumbled out into another corridor. It was dimly lit, the flickering fire from the torches casting ominous shadows over them.

"Where were you going?" she tried again. Regulus predictably clenched his jaw and glared at her, already turning on his heel to stomp away.

Desperately, Hermione clenched his left forearm and glanced at him imploringly. "Why are you avoiding me?" she softly asked. His avoidance had genuinely hurt her, because she had treated him as a _friend_. She also had this inkling that the Slytherin was already carrying a great burden, and Hermione, for the life of her, promised herself she wouldn't stand aside and watch as Regulus's life spiralled out of control.

Her grip on his arm tightened when his face grew thunderous. With wild, furious eyes, he glared down at Hermione and spat, "If you want to _live_ , you have to stay away from me."

She recoiled at his ferocity, her hand slipping back to her side. Regulus was suddenly breathing heavily and his eyes shone with terror and pain and more. He reminded her of another sixteen-year-old Slytherin back when she was Hermione Granger, whose face was gaunt and afraid… _so_ afraid, like he had to do this. Like he had no choice.

Tears prickled her eyes as she lifted her hand again to reach out for him. But Regulus flinched and took a few steps back, the vulnerability he'd shown her before peeking through the cracks of his mask. "Let me help you, Regulus," she whispered. " _Please_ , let me help you. Whatever you are going through, tell me, and I will do whatever I can to help you."

Regulus took a deep, shuddering breath as a wry smile appeared on his face. "No one can help me, Pettigrew," he said.

With a grand flourish, he swivelled around, his black robes billowing behind his back.

Hermione dumbly stared at his back as tears steadily poured from her blue eyes. Based on what had happened a while ago, her belief that he was already Branded was strengthened. With her resolute vow not to step aside and look away anymore, Hermione swore she would take the first step in helping him this time, even if he thought it would all be futile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean, I'm all for writing fluff and stuff but I need to do something about the plot already ahahaha
> 
> That's it for now! Thank you for still reading this. See you all tomorrow. 
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes)


	24. chapter twenty-three

* * *

**xxiii.**

_**surely someone will reach out a hand** _

(A Safe Place to Land by Sara Bareilles)

* * *

**October 5, 1977**

Hermione swallowed down her nervousness as she entered the library. She immediately spied Regulus who was as usual, flanked by Barty Crouch Jr. and Evan Rosier. The Slytherins were busy doing their homework, and it made her disconcerted a bit at the sight. Here were a bunch of _Death Eaters_ , still doing menial, student things like studying. Hermione almost laughed at the odd sight.

Purposively walking towards Regulus, she ignored the other two, even though she saw that Crouch was the first one to notice her. He hit Regulus with the end of his elbow, prompting the Black heir to scowl. But then, Crouch tipped his chin in her direction and Regulus followed his line of vision.

Brief surprise flitted in his silver eyes but it was soon replaced by cold indifference. Hermione fought the urge to shiver at his steely gaze and instead concentrated on the shrinking distance between her and their table.

"Regulus," she stiffly greeted. "I'm here to return a book."

The other Slytherins glanced at Regulus uncertainly, who had now narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "You didn't borrow a book from me," he pointed out.

Hermione tightened her grip on her fifth year Transfiguration textbook. "Yes, I did," she ground out as she slammed the book in front of him.

Regulus knitted his eyebrows in suspicion and glanced at the book. Both Crouch and Rosier looked affronted at her actions and were blessedly distracted when Regulus opened the cover of the book. A small piece of parchment fluttered out. Hermione watched as his eyes scanned the words she had written on it – _'I know you are a Death Eater. I know you are working for Voldemort._ ' Her heart turned to lead and dropped to her stomach when he furiously snapped the book shut, effectively hiding the parchment from prying eyes.

"What do you want?" he growled ferociously, baring his teeth.

"You haven't returned my Potions textbook either," she hastily lied, surprised she had managed to utter such words when her tongue felt so thick and dry. "I wish to get it back."

Regulus's grip on the book tightened, his knuckles turning white.

"Get out of here, Blood-Traitor," Crouch taunted, his tongue flickering out menacingly. "If you know what's good for you."

"I'm not talking to _you_ ," she hotly said. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Regulus hastily scribble something on the parchment she'd given him. He then suddenly shot up from his seat and stomped towards Hermione.

He stood at his tallest height and towered over her. His grey eyes were tumultuous, like a raging storm over troubled seas, but Hermione met his gaze, unwilling to back down.

"Keep it," he hissed, slapping the Transfiguration book against her chest. "I don't need your grubby little germs contaminating my things."

Ire flared in her eyes when Regulus turned away and sat back down on his seat, now resolutely keeping his eyes glued on the parchment in front of him. Hermione darkly glared at his snickering friends, before turning on her heel and stiffly walking out of the library.

Once she had emerged out of the wooden doors, her anger and nervousness fizzled, replaced by exhaustion and anticipation. She immediately strode towards an alcove and eyed the book in her hand. She had an inkling that what Regulus had just done was all for show, to appease his Slytherin mates, and Hermione fervently prayed that she was right.

Shakily opening the cover, the piece of parchment she'd tucked inside was still there, only this time, a new note was scribbled on the back.

Hermione picked it up and read the words: _'Astronomy Tower. Midnight.'_

A relieved smile bloomed on her face. At least she'd finally caught Regulus's attention.

The Ravenclaw pulled out her wand and _Incendio-d_ the letter before striding out of the alcove, anticipating tonight.

**-ooo-**

Hermione's eyes widened when Peter slid down on the bench beside her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, scanning the Great Hall in search of her best friends. She caught Lily's eyes as she was striding inside, her boyfriend trailing not too far behind her. The redhead's eyes narrowed in her direction, before pulling Severus towards the Gryffindor table, ignoring his protests.

"Can't I eat with my sister?" Peter snorted with a flourished eye roll.

Hermione frowned. " _You_ never eat with me when we're at Hogwarts," she pointed out matter-of-factly.

"He and Mary had a row."

The brunette craned her neck and was surprised to see the other Marauders standing casually near the Ravenclaw table. It was Sirius who had spoken, seeing that Peter's glaring eyes were directed at him. The curly-haired Gryffindor ignored him and grinned, taking the seat across from Hermione. "It was fantastic, Whiskers," he said, "you should have seen it."

Remus greeted her with a small smile and clambered on the seat beside Sirius.

"What are you _all_ doing here?" she asked incredulously.

Hermione instantly stiffened when James chose to sit on the vacant seat beside her. "The Gryffindor table is particularly sad without Wormtail," the bespectacled wizard joked, prompting Peter to lean towards him and smack his arm. Hermione, who was sitting between the rowdy boys, found herself leaning towards James, her right arm briefly pressing against him. Her cheeks instantly flushed red and she immediately moved away, managing to topple Peter nearly off his seat.

"Blimey, Hermione," her brother whined, straightening himself on the bench.

The other wizard beside her was silently shaking with laughter, his hazel eyes lit up in amusement.

Hermione noisily cleared her throat and focused all of her attention on Peter. "I didn't know you and Mary were going serious," she claimed.

Peter's cheeks flushed red and he moodily stared at his empty plate. "I'm not sure if we'll ever be going there anyway," he murmured under his breath.

"Nonsense, Petey!" Sirius gasped. "The girl's smitten with you. You should have seen how she was making googly eyes at you during classes. It was honestly sickening, but _sweet_." Sirius made a face. "But sickening."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," the sandy-haired boy said with a light glare, his cheeks dusted with pink once more. He slumped despondently on the table and sighed. "Maybe I was a complete buffoon a while ago."

"What did you do this time, Peter?" Hermione asked with narrowed eyes.

Peter merely snorted and started gloomily piling food onto his plate. Hermione glanced at his friends, but James and Sirius merely shrugged their shoulders. Remus, surprisingly, was the one who answered her question.

"Something about meeting the family," Remus casually said, coolly spreading jam over his muffin. "I'm not entirely sure. There were a lot of groans from Peter and shrieks from Mary." The corners of his lips twitched in amusement. "You should have seen it, Hermione. It was bonkers."

"It wasn't _bonkers_ ," Peter whined. His cheeks reddened more and he steadfastly avoided Hermione's eyes. "She thought it might be lovely if she could come over next break and meet Mum." Peter shyly glanced at Hermione and grimaced. "And _you_ , apparently. She said she hears a lot of things about you from Lily, and they are quite close. She thought it would be wonderful if you and her got close, too, you know. She had always been intrigued by the smartest Pettigrew."

Hermione looked at him dubiously. "And what the hell is wrong with that?" she exclaimed. "Mum's been pestering us for years about our love lives."

The corner of Peter's lips twitched upward. "Yeah, Mum's been particularly interested with the boys in _your_ life," he said with a weak chuckle.

James choked on his pumpkin juice. Peter gave him a weird glance whilst Remus leant forward and thumped his back. Hermione, on the other hand, could feel a blush creeping up from her chest and resolutely avoided looking at the boy who had apparently liked her for months.

"So, yeah, I don't see any problem - why do you not want to bring Mary over?" Hermione continued. "Mum will be over the moon. I'm sure she'll cook another feast if she discovers you're bringing over a guest at Christmas."

Peter groaned and rubbed his face. "But it means things have gone _way_ serious," he pointed out matter-of-factly.

His sister knitted her eyebrows in confusion. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but based from what I've deduced, I think it's what you wanted," Hermione deliberately said.

The older Pettigrew expelled a soft sigh as a blush dusted his cheeks. "I don't think I deserve her, Hermione," he murmured sadly. "Mary's a… Mary's _wonderful_ and very pretty. I don't know what she sees in me, honestly."

"I wonder about that sometimes, Wormtail," Sirius piped in.

"Shut it, Pads, not helping," James snorted, throwing a small grape towards the annoying Gryffindor. Sirius deftly dodged the fruit, which unfortunately bounced off Remus' cheek. Annoyed, the werewolf grabbed a piece of his muffin and flicked it towards James.

Hermione rolled her eyes as a mini food fight broke out amongst the three. She could see the other Ravenclaws were staring at the Gryffindors, obviously unused to such a ruckus on their table.

"So, the point is," Peter lamented, "I told her that maybe it would be better if she came over after we've graduated." He blushed and absentmindedly scratched his chin. "After I got accepted as an Auror. Maybe then, I'd be something. I think Mary interpreted it differently and it made her angry."

The brunette huffed in frustration and leant over to whack him on the back of his neck. Peter scowled at her, surprised and indignant at the same time, but she ignored it. "Blimey, that's some load of codswallop, Peter Pettigrew," she admonished with a dark glare. "If you don't bring Mary over for Christmas dinner, I'm going to tell Mum and demand her to send you a Howler until you get those ridiculous thoughts out of your head," she threatened.

"I don't know about you, mate," James piped in, his mini food fight with his friends ceasing. "But I think you should listen to your sister."

"She gets terrifying when she gets that look," Remus concurred with a firm nod.

"I think she might send you a Bat-Bogey Hex if you still refuse," Sirius offered with a smile.

Peter slightly paled and warily stared at Hermione. "You won't do that, will you?" he deliberately asked.

"If my brother continues being a berk, then I just might," Hermione said, casually brandishing her wand from her robe pocket. The other boys started snickering under their breaths, prompting Peter to send a scathing glare their way.

" _Fine_ , blimey," Peter exclaimed in exasperation. "I knew it was a bad idea sitting beside you today."

Hermione broke into a grin. "Mum will go ballistic with Christmas dinner," she said with a short laugh. "I'm bloody well sure of it."

"Why don't you ever invite us over to your house, Petey?" Sirius complained. "Your mother's lovely and we've always been curious as to how you and Hermione grew up in a Muggle neighbourhood."

" _You_ grew up in a Muggle neighbourhood," Hermione retorted with a quirked eyebrow.

"Ah, well, my situation is different," Sirius said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I honestly don't know why my ancestors, Pureblood bigots through and through, wanted to stay in a _Muggle_ townhouse of all places."

"Maybe because your family is barmy?" James helpfully suggested.

Sirius barked a laugh and vigorously nodded his head. "Yes, of course, the infamous Black family curse," he continued.

"I didn't invite you _over_ because I know you'd prank our mother and face her ire first hand," Peter said with a smirk. "If it helps, her temper is worse than _Hermione's_. Probably a Selwyn trait, I'm not too sure."

Hermione snorted, absolutely agreeing with Peter's claim.

"But maybe sometime in the future," Peter said. "Mum really likes visitors. You should have seen the feast she made when Lily and Snape came over last summer. It was enough to feed the whole Gryffindor House, honestly."

"Speaking of Lily and Snape," James casually piped in, staring pointedly at Hermione. "Is it true they're going out?"

Hermione's heart thudded at being addressed by the wizard beside her. Forcing indifference, she coolly looked at him and said, "And why do you care?"

The brunette internally cringed, berating herself for choosing – of all things – to ask that question instead. She wanted to tell him the truth just to get it over with, but there was this annoying itch in her heart that made her irrationally annoyed at his interest.

James quirked an eyebrow at her question. "Just curious, Whiskers," he plainly said. A small smirk grew on his face as he ducked his head closer, the distance appropriate enough for Peter but mighty dizzying for Hermione. "Lily's old news. _You_ know that."

His hazel eyes held a silent challenge and Hermione didn't want to back down. She knew her cheeks were already blazing red from his close proximity, but that stupid smirk on his face, or that glint in his eyes forced her to stubbornly keep the stare.

"Yes," she breathlessly replied. " _I_ know that."

Lily and Sev didn't bother hiding their relationship now that their other best friend knew. No one really batted an eye when the two came inside the Great Hall, hand-in-hand, without any care in the world. They'd been really close after all. However, they were all waiting for James Potter's reaction, which, to the dismay of the student body, never came. James gave their hand holding a brief stare, before he deftly shrugged and went back to his conversation with his friends. It wasn't hard to conclude that the Head Boy didn't like the Head Girl anymore.

"Don't tell me you're still interested with Evans, mate," Sirius said with a snort. "She's bloody off limits now, even though it's with _Snivellus_." His nose scrunched up as if he'd eaten something rotten. "Blimey, I didn't think she'd settle with that greasy-haired git."

"Who happens to be _my_ best friend too, Black," Hermione snapped, throwing him a scathing glare. "Watch it."

He raised his hands in defence and sheepishly smiled.

"Lily's _old_ news," James insisted once more. He went back to his plate and secretly smiled. "I like somebody else now."

The chorus of 'whats' shook Hermione, as the brunette paled and stared at James, wondering if he'd confess to his friends what he'd told her back at Hogsmeade.

"Calm down, wankers," James said with a laugh. "I'm still waiting for her reply."

" _Waiting_?" Sirius gasped with wide eyes. "Since when do you wait for a girl to agree to go out with you?" He threw his hands at the general direction of where Lily and Sev sat. "Exhibit A: Lily Evans."

James coloured in embarrassment. "She told me she doesn't like the grand, obnoxious gestures," he reasoned out.

" _Lily_ didn't like the grand, obnoxious gestures either," Remus quipped, cocking an eyebrow in amusement.

"Yeah, well, this _girl_ isn't the same as Lily."

Hermione could feel her cheeks heating up once more, and refused to look at James.

Peter whistled under his breath. "Whoever this new girl is, you must be absolutely whipped," her brother quipped, oblivious to how Hermione had stiffened beside him. "James Potter never _waits_ for a reply. Bloke's too impatient for things like that." He burst into loud laughter as he looked at his other friends.

"Bloody impatient," Remus agreed with a sigh, the corner of his lips twitching into a small smile. "Do you remember back in third year when he hexed Sirius because he came an hour late to Diagon Alley?"

Sirius snorted. "Bloody git turned my hair _pink_ ," he scowled, touching his curls reverently. "Whoever this girl is must protect her hair at all times, honestly."

Hermione unconsciously clutched some of her curls and stared at James with wide eyes. The wizard's cheeks were blazing red with embarrassment, once again attempting to instigate a food fight by throwing grapes in Sirius's direction.

Remus lazily swished his wand and disappeared whatever food James was clutching in his hands. "Sorry to disturb the fun but we have to get going," he declared. "Transfiguration's in a few minutes."

" _Shite_ , I haven't finished the career essay yet!" Peter cried, immediately scrambling from his chair.

Sirius's eyes were wide. "What career essay?" he gasped, paling in panic.

"Berk, of course you forgot about it," Remus said with a laugh, sliding off the bench to sling his bag over his shoulders.

"Moony let me copy yours," the raven-haired boy pleaded.

"We have different career paths, Sirius, blimey." Sirius persistently hounded on Remus as they followed Peter, the latter doing a good job at writing on a parchment whilst walking.

James finally slid off the bench. "Later, Hermione," he said with a small smile, before turning around and following the others.

Hermione stared at their retreating backs, smiling fondly at the small ruckus they were making.

She packed up her things to get ready for her Charms class. Hermione slipped her wand back inside her robe pocket, but then paused with a frown. She rummaged inside her pocket and pulled out a few pieces of toffee. She clearly remembered she didn't have any in her pockets this morning.

Blushing, Hermione glanced at James, as he threw an arm over Sirius' shoulders and pulled him away from an annoyed Remus.

Merlin Almighty, he was really making everything hard for her.

**-ooo-**

Later that night, after making sure that her roommates were fast asleep, Hermione slid down from her bed and walked towards the door. She peeked out to see if any students were still awake and burning the midnight oil. Predictably, some seventh years were bent over their desks, furiously scribbling notes on their parchment or mouthing out words.

Before striding out, Hermione pulled out her wand and Disillusioned herself. Although the lights were still on, at least she'd blend in with the background. The seventh years might merely get distracted by some distortion in the air and attribute it to their lack of sleep.

Hermione slowly strode out of her room and managed to reach the entrance door without a hitch. She slipped out of the Tower and breathed a sigh of relief. Hermione removed the charm on herself and closed her eyes, concentrating on her Animagus form.

She felt the familiar shifting and melting until it had stopped. When Hermione opened her eyes once more, the world was blurrier and taller. She briefly gazed at her paws and was pleased to note that she could transform herself without using her wand anymore.

Hermione, in cat form, slinked through the corridors, making sure to hide herself by blending in with the shadows. Her vision was distorted, like the world had suddenly became less colourful, which was a downside of becoming a cat. The good thing, however, was that she could see more clearly in the dark. Hermione took advantage of that by slinking into dark corridors until she had reached the Astronomy Tower.

She hovered near the door, uncertain as to whether this was a good idea. She was going to be alone with a _Death Eater_. Granted, he was a newbie and maybe he hadn't yet committed darker crimes that would put him in Azkaban in a heartbeat. But the fact that he was Branded, meant he was already deeply entangled with Voldemort and his web of evil and deceit.

' _No, you were the one who wanted to reach out,'_ a voice firmly told Hermione. She couldn't back out now. She told herself she wouldn't turn a blind eye anymore. Now that Regulus needed someone to help him get out of this mess alive, Hermione knew it was up to her.

Hermione transformed back into her human form and slowly crept inside the Astronomy Tower. She instantly found Regulus wearing down the stone floor. He wasn't wearing his usual mask either. Raw panic showed on his face as he mercilessly worried his bottom lip. At this distance, Hermione could see that his stark, silver eyes looked dangerously like liquid mercury.

She'd been through war and fought many battles. Hermione instantly knew what that look meant – fear. _Danger_.

She pulled out her wand and tightly gripped it in her hand, cautiously stepping forward to approach the panicking Slytherin. Hermione accidentally stepped on a creaking floorboard, which alerted Regulus to her presence. He instantly stood still and Hermione watched as he carefully crafted a mask to cover all the tumultuous feelings he was experiencing.

"Regulus," she greeted, slowly approaching him again until she was a few meters away. Her eyes flickered to his hand, noting that he too, was tightly gripping his own wand.

"You cannot prove anything," he spat in return.

Her grip tightened on her wand, resolutely staring at him. "Yes, I can," she coolly replied.

Before Regulus could act, Hermione lifted her wand and boomed a loud " _Expelliarmus_!" His wand flew into the air and she deftly caught it. Regulus looked murderous, his teeth bared, and tried to stomp towards Hermione, but she was faster. With another wave, she exclaimed " _Petrificus Totalus!"_ and then pointed her wand swiftly at the ground and hissed " _Molliare!"_

Regulus became as rigid as a board and he toppled forward, his face landing on the cushioned stone floor.

For a moment, everything was still except for Hermione's loud breathing. The Ravenclaw then shakily placed Regulus's wand inside her robe pocket, lest he stole it back and tried to hex her in retaliation.

Hermione closed the remaining distance between her and Regulus. Once she reached him, she turned him over so that she could see his face. His stormy eyes were the only thing that moved, darting to and fro, to relay how furious he was.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, tears already pricking her eyes. "It's the only way I can prove it."

She then grasped onto his left sleeve and pushed it up to his elbow. Hermione's breath hitched at the familiar image of the black tattoo, the snake slithering mockingly, making her remember all the horrible things Hermione Granger had gone through. Bile rose up from her throat as horrified tears slowly trailed down from her eyes.

Hermione tentatively looked back at Regulus's eyes, only to discover they had stopped moving all together. Regulus was staring at her with wide, terrified eyes, knowing that she had finally discovered his well-kept secret.

"Oh, Regulus," she whispered. "What have you done?"

She instantly thought of older Sirius, hate and disgust on his face for his Death Eater brother, unknown to him that he was trying to right his wrongs in the end.

Eyes hardening, Hermione grew resolute. She wouldn't let that happen, wouldn't let Regulus die in vain. She wouldn't even let Regulus die at all! She was going to help him, however she could, and she'd be damned if Regulus refused her help.

The spell soon wore off and Regulus was left to stare at Hermione. His breathing grew shaky and ragged as he slowly sat up and angrily covered the Dark Mark once more.

Before Hermione could move, Regulus's hand was tight around her arm. His initial shock disappeared and was replaced by a murderous glint in his eyes. "You had no right," he angrily spat through gritted teeth. His face twisted, a mixture of fury and panic marring his pale face.

"You wouldn't tell me, even when I was persistent," Hermione murmured through her thick tears. "I had to get proof."

His hold tightened around her arm. "What now, then? Will you tell your precious Dumbledore? Will you tell him that the Black heir is finally Branded by a mark so vile that even _you_ cannot tolerate to look at it?" His words poured out harshly from his pale lips, but his eyes spoke of unadulterated, genuine fear of what Hermione would actually do with her newfound knowledge.

Hermione vigorously shook her head. "No, _no_ , that's not my intention at all," she protested.

Regulus paused and knitted his eyebrows in confusion. "Then what is?" he asked in exasperation. "Isn't that what you wanted? To threaten me with your stupid words?"

Despite her tears, Hermione expelled a soft, hollow laugh. "Is that what you think this is all about?" she asked. "Blackmailing?" His hand loosened as he faltered. Another laugh escaped from her lips. "Why do all Slytherins think all good deeds have ulterior motives?"

"Because they do," he interjected. "They always do."

" _No_ ," she grounded out. "No, Regulus, I'm doing this because you are my friend. I'm doing this because I _want_ to help you."

He recoiled at her words, as if he had been slapped. Hermione's heart clenched at his genuine confusion. Perhaps, Regulus had never really understood what friendship truly meant. She always thought he was joking when he said he merely thought of her as an acquaintance, but maybe it was the only thing he knew.

"Let me help you," she whispered, reaching out to hold his hand. "You don't have to go through all of this alone, Regulus."

Conflicting emotions rushed through his face. Hope bloomed in Hermione's heart, wondering if she was actually getting through him.

But then, Regulus hardened his expression once more and roughly snatched his hand away from Hermione's. "You _can't_ help, Pettigrew," he furiously replied. " _Nobody_ can help. The Dark Lord is bloody fucking powerful. We are mere bugs under his sneering, red eyes. He could crush us without blinking an eye. I— you—" He shakily took a deep breath, his anger now replaced by an unending despair. "You are asking for a death sentence if you plan to leave his tyranny. He is _invincible_."

"Wrong," Hermione exclaimed with unwavering vehemence. "You're wrong. He's not."

Regulus made a face and lightly glared at Hermione. "Did you hear what I just said, Pettigrew? I said—"

"I know what you said and I am telling you, you are wrong," Hermione interjected. "All _wrong_." She swallowed down her trepidation and pierced him with a pointed glance. "I know what his downfall is."

The Slytherin gaped at her in disbelief. "What?" he managed to crack.

"I know what his weakness is," she continued resolutely. "And if you agree to let me help, then there's a chance you'll get out of it all _alive_."

Regulus stared at her with wide eyes, before deflating once more, his eyes turning wary. "If you're just pulling my leg, Pettigrew—"

"Damn it, Regulus!" she shrieked, much to his surprise. "Just trust me for now."

He clamped his mouth tightly into a thin line, his silver eyes now curiously scrutinising her face, trying to see any sign that she was lying. "How do I know I can trust you?"

Hermione sighed. "I cannot show any proof yet," she said in apology. "But… please, Regulus. Can't you hold on to my word for now?"

He hesitated for a bit, understandably so, because Hermione knew it was bloody weird how an ordinary Ravenclaw sixth year would suddenly be spouting about weaknesses of a Dark Lord Regulus believed she had never met in her entire life.

"Fine," he sighed. His steely eyes bore into her blue ones and he continued, "Tell me what this weakness is?"

Her heart calmed down in relief as she shook her head. "Not today," she replied. "I— this is bloody dangerous, Regulus. Once you start with this – this _task_ , there is no turning back. If you think this path will be much easier than becoming a Death Eater and blindly following the bastard with his stupid ideologies, then I'm telling you that you would be wrong. You might be forced to give everything you have – your family, your prestige, your… your _life_. But I promise you, if you let me help, I will do whatever it takes to help you bring Voldemort down and to free you from whatever tight hold he has on you."

Before he could retort something, Hermione pulled out a spare parchment from her pocket and the turkey quill she still hadn't returned to James. She tore a piece and scribbled down words, then shoved it into Regulus's hands. "If you've thought this through, and you still want to do this, search for me and bring that. Think of it as a proverbial olive branch for even thinking you could _avoid_ me, Regulus Black."

Hermione then wordlessly stood up and pulled out Regulus's wand. She slowly placed it on the floor beside him, but Regulus didn't seem to notice it at all. Hermione turned on her heel and started to walked away.

"Why are you doing this?"

She paused in her steps and deliberately turned around. Regulus was still on the floor, the pale moonlight shining on his equally pale face. His silver eyes were the clearest she'd seen in the past few weeks, as if he'd finally found something that could bring him out of this hellhole.

"Because," she started, "you're my friend, Regulus. I just can't…" She lifted her hand to swipe a few tears from her face. "I can't turn a blind eye anymore."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kind words. I know you have a lot of questions (I mean, A LOT) but I can't answer them all at once because, you know, spoilers. They'll be answered gradually. I promise.
> 
> See you all tomorrow!
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr! (kimmy-writes)


	25. chapter twenty-four

* * *

**xxiv.**

_**a brute force with the sweetest disguise** _

(Falling in Love Pie by Sara Bareilles)

* * *

**November 5, 1977**

A month flew by without any news from Regulus.

Sitting on the Ravenclaw table, Hermione tried to catch his attention, but Regulus was too busy conversing with Crouch and Rosier. She grimaced at how smirky the other two were, with mischievous glints in their eyes as they most likely talked about new ways to torment Muggleborns and how best to please their Dark Lord.

Hermione scowled at her fried chicken and furiously sliced through the meat, wondering if her conversation with the Black heir in the Astronomy Tower had been in vain after all. She honestly thought he'd crack by now; she'd seen his desperate eyes and the hope that had bloomed in them when she spoke of a way to bring Voldemort down. She also knew she was the one who had suggested for him to think things through, but Hermione hadn't expected it would stretch on for an entire month. A few days after their meeting would have been all right, but as October had bled into a cold November, Hermione was starting to lose hope herself.

"What did that poor chicken do to you this time?"

The Ravenclaw lifted her eyes and weakly smiled at a bemused Lily. Her eyes briefly flickered towards her and Sev's interlaced fingers before sighing. "It's been a tiring day," she easily lied, scooting over a bit to give them room. Lily took the seat beside Hermione whilst Sev took the vacant seat across from them.

"I sometimes wonder who's really taking NEWTs this year," Sev drawled with a quirked eyebrow, pointedly looking at the opened Herbology textbook beside her plate.

Hermione frowned and protectively held her book. "I like to study," she protested, perhaps for the umpteenth time. " _You_ , on the other hand, are not studying enough."

"You mean enough to match your standards," Lily corrected with a laugh. "Hermione, honestly, we may not have gotten all 'O's in our OWLs, but we still managed to get more than others. We do set aside time to study. I promise."

"How was I to know that when you've been studying so infrequently with me," the brunette petulantly murmured.

Lily and Sev exchanged amused glances. "You've been spending an awful amount of time with the Marauders," Lily pointed out with a wide grin. "The blokes may have stopped going out of their way to torment Sev, but there's still bad blood between them."

"Yeah, well, they needed someone to mother them."

Sev snorted and threw her a wary glance. "They're not a bunch of children for you to _mother_ , Hermione," he tutted. " _Potter,_ most especially, shouldn't be coddled, seeing as he's a spoiled, arrogant toerag."

The corner of her lips twitched at his words. "That's not entirely false," she said, followed by a soft chuckle. "I'm sorry; I'm just really worried about their NEWTs, especially Peter's. They'd all be so devastated if they weren't accepted by the ministry."

"Sometimes, I wonder if you're in the wrong House," Lily said with a deep sigh. "Your golden heart must be envied by all the Hufflepuffs."

"They wouldn't be able to handle her big brain," Sev pointed out matter-of-factly.

"Hey, I know Hufflepuffs who are smart," Hermione protested, secretly thinking about Hannah Abbot and Ernie MacMillan. Sev merely made a face at her comment and went back to eating his lunch.

Lily spent the whole of lunch chattering incessantly about the conclusion of her career essay and how she felt like she'd be a good Unspeakable in the future. "I've already talked to Professor McGonagall and she said I'd be brilliant at it," Lily continued. "I'd never really thought about being one before, to be honest. I always thought I'd be a paper pusher in the ministry instead."

"Unspeakables push papers, too, Lils," Hermione pointed out with an amused smile.

"Oh, I know that," the redhead said, rolling her eyes. "What I mean is, I never really considered being an Unspeakable before because I heard it's quite hard. Not to mention, rumour has it that most of the employees there, have grown barmy over the years, unable to handle the mysteries they were confronted with."

"Ah, well, it looks like you will belong perfectly then," Sev claimed with a teasing smirk.

Lily laughed and swatted him playfully. "Shut up, sourpuss," she grinned.

"You'll need loads of knowledge about Arithmancy, Lily," Hermione reminded. "It will be hard, but quite enjoyable, too. I did consider becoming an Unspeakable myself, since Arithmancy's my favourite subject."

"It needs loads of Divination too, you know," Lily quipped with a grin. "And I know how you loathe that subject."

"An unfortunate downside," Hermione replied, her nose scrunching up in distaste. "Honestly, I think most wizards or witches who claim to be 'seers' are bloody frauds, spouting ridiculous predictions that suit the desires of others. At least with Arithmancy, _numbers_ don't lie."

"Figures you'd say something like that," the older witch said. "But unlike you, I actually find Divination interesting. So, with the right mixture of Arithmancy and Divination, I think being an Unspeakable would be good for me."

Sev frowned and leant closer to Lily. "The year-long training takes up too much time and effort," he stiffly pointed out. "Professor Slughorn once told us their working hours almost rivalled the schedules of Healers."

"So, in short, you'll miss me terribly whilst you're running around with your beloved Slughorn," Lily teased, prompting Sev's cheeks to redden in embarrassment.

"Excuse me," he huffed, lifting his crooked nose in the air. "Bold of you to assume that."

Lily rolled her eyes and glanced at Hermione. "Look how melodramatic he becomes when we start to talk about feelings," the redhead said, followed by a snort of laughter. "Admit it, Sev; you're invested in my future too, because you want to be a _huge_ part of it."

His cheeks reddened more, drawling words that only made Lily roll her eyes more and laugh.

Hermione quietly observed her best friends, slightly uncomfortable with how they were _ridiculously adorable_. Sev was stupid with his feelings, but the embarrassment in his eyes already spoke volumes about Lily's speculation. And Lily, bless her bloody soul, understood him completely – his attitude, his thoughts, his _everything_ – and Hermione had never seen a relationship like that before.

It was sweet and sad at the same time. Judging from how they were acting right now, she doubted their relationship was coming to an end. Their graduation was already drawing nearer, yet Lily had never shown any interest in James.

' _There's plenty of time,'_ she assured herself. _'Let them have their fun.'_

Hermione smiled sadly as Lily threw back her head and released a boisterous laugh, before standing up from the bench and jogging towards Sev. She pressed against him and grinned, whispering things against his ear that made him flush redder.

"Please don't be gross in front of me," Hermione murmured, her nose scrunching up when Lily placed a sweet kiss on his cheek.

"Apologies, Hermione," Lily said unapologetically, her green eyes glinting brightly when Sev unconsciously gave her a small smile.

Their relationship was definitely getting stronger. Hermione had no idea how Lily and James would end up together.

* * *

**November 7, 1977**

James was still a huge problem for Hermione. With Regulus not contacting her at all, Hermione had no other choice but to focus on her studies and diligently do her homework. But, since she had no major exams this year, she found herself mostly at a loss of what to do.

The Marauders frequently studied with her, though, and had been growing nervous as the weeks flew by. Their professors had been constantly stressing about the importance of NEWTs for their future career paths, which didn't help the nerves of her aspiring Auror friends. Sometimes, Marlene and Mary dropped by to accompany their boyfriends, and inevitably got gifted with Hermione's infamous colour-coded schedule as a result.

Suffice to say, her study group had become crowded, which Hermione didn't really mind. She was just glad more and more of her seventh-year friends were taking their upcoming NEWTs seriously.

The problem however, was that her constant accompaniment with the Marauders meant she was spending an awful lot of time with James, too.

The bespectacled wizard was still suspiciously and patiently waiting for her answer, secretly doing little sweet things behind the others' back that made her heart ache a bit. Now that Lily and Sev were dating, Hermione couldn't help but wonder if it wouldn't hurt to try things out with James. Her annoying feelings for him had persisted after all. _No,_ damn it, she believed the feelings had actually grown, especially after discovering her feelings weren't one-sided.

James didn't seem like he'd be stopping soon either. He was still sneaking toffees inside her robe pocket when he thought she wasn't looking. He would insist on escorting her back to her dormitory, sometimes letting his fingers brush against hers when they were walking.

It was _so_ hard to get rid of him because he was everywhere. Even when they were apart, Hermione's eyes would unconsciously scan the whole corridor just to search for his familiar, untidy dark hair. And then, if she'd see him, her heart would flutter in delight and her lips would stretch into a small smile.

It was maddening how she was going barmy over a boy. It was unlike Hermione, to pine over a boy at a time when she should be concentrating on her studies. But then again, she'd been like this with Ron, irrationally getting jealous when she'd see him interact with Lavender or how she'd unconsciously singling him out in a sea of people.

She finally found a moment of solitude for herself when she chose to do her homework near the Black Lake. Lily and Sev were away doing something Hermione didn't want to concern herself with. There were no study sessions today either, so Hermione had the day all to herself.

The Ravenclaw started pulling her things out of her bag and piling them on her lap, mentally trying to schedule her to-do list for the day. She unrolled a blank parchment and smoothed down the edges, before rummaging inside her bag for a quill. What she pulled out was the turkey quill she had borrowed from James.

Hermione blinked at the quill, finally realising it had been with her for a month already. James had never asked for it back, so Hermione had forgotten about it.

With a firm nod, she promised herself she'd return the quill as soon as she crossed paths with James. She would be sad to part with it, because it really was an amazing quill, but it wasn't hers, and it did cost a fortune. James would surely want it back.

The Ravenclaw started writing on the parchment, her mind already getting lost in all of the information she was gathering.

She wasn't entirely sure how much time had passed, but she was suddenly staring into the hazel eyes which had been the object of her dreams lately.

Hermione's eyes widened and she owlishly blinked at a grinning James.

"What the hell are you doing outside?" he asked with a laugh. "Blimey, Whiskers. It's _freezing_!"

Now that he mentioned it, she was actually a bit cold. Hermione frowned at the slightly wet ground and was annoyed the warming and drying charm she had simultaneously placed on herself and the grass underneath her was starting to wear off.

"It's a nice day to be outside the castle," she explained. Hermione absentmindedly rubbed her slightly numb nose and grimaced. "Apparently a nice day to get sick too."

"We don't want that now, do we?" James seriously asked.

The corner of Hermione's lips lifted into a small smile. "What are you doing here?" she asked as she crammed her things inside her bag.

"You weren't in the library," James said, nervously ruffling his hair. It was sticking in various directions, much to Hermione's amusement. "So I thought you'd be here."

She threw a silent question in his direction, prompting him to sheepishly smile. "I was planning to do some studying today," he explained. "I'm not sure what the others are up to, but I'm sure they wouldn't want to study with me today."

"Remus would," she pointed out matter-of-factly.

"Yes, well, he isn't a pretty study partner, so why invite him over when there's someone else I have in mind?" James gave her a cheeky smile while she rolled her eyes.

Hermione slowly climbed onto her feet whilst James immediately grabbed onto her bag and swung it over his shoulders.

"I can carry it, you know," she stated.

"Pureblood etiquette and all that shite," he said with a dismissive wave of hand. "Mum would go ballistic if she discovered I never carried your things when we were together."

Hermione made a face but didn't comment about it any further. Times like these, she was secretly relieved her mother had been disowned by her family. Else, she'd have been raised like a proper Selwyn. It was already weird for her being a Half-Blood in this timeline, but she had managed to adjust quickly, because Anya had raised them mostly through Muggle ways. Hermione would surely have gone crazy if she'd found out she was a Pureblood instead.

Slightly shivering from the cold, Hermione placed her bare hands inside her thin sweater. Her fingers touched the soft material of the turkey quill and she immediately remembered her promise to return it to James as soon as possible.

She pulled out the handsome quill and extended it towards him. "Sorry, I think I've kept this with me for too long," she said with an apologetic smile. "I'm returning it now."

James knitted his eyebrows briefly at the turkey quill, but then recognition sparked in his eyes. "You can keep it," he said, lightly blushing. His hand nervously ran through his hair. "Actually, I bought it for you."

Her eyes popped out in surprise. "What? But it's so expensive!" she exclaimed, pressing the quill towards his chest.

The older Gryffindor merely laughed and gently pushed it back into her hands. "Why'd you think I asked for your opinion about what the best quill was?" he said with a meaningful glance. "I use whatever quill is available, but I know you always break yours due to your mighty grip. I thought I'd save you from the constant need to replace your quills by buying you the best one."

Her cheeks flushed, her heartbeat quickening at the fact that he'd been thinking about _her_ and her small discomforts in life.

"Uh-oh, did I sway your heart already?" he asked with a triumphant grin.

She narrowed her eyes and harrumphed away, stomping purposively towards the castle. She heard James's lovely laugh as he caught up with her.

Hermione slipped the turkey quill inside her sweater once more, knowing it'd be futile to insist returning it. Besides, she'd grown really fond with it and she had been hesitant to part with it.

A cool breeze then brushed against her exposed cheeks, prompting her to lightly shiver again.

"Cold?" he asked.

"A bit," she confessed, already pulling out her wand from her pocket.

But, before she could cast a warming spell on herself, James was already shrugging off his outer robe and draping it over her shoulders.

Hermione froze, the cloak slightly heavier than what she'd expected. Since James was a head taller than her, the cloak almost dragged at the hems.

"You should start to bundle up, Whiskers," the Head Boy admonished. "You shouldn't rush outside without a thick cloak or even a scarf to warm you up."

His robe smelled so much like him and Hermione couldn't stop herself from smiling stupidly. She slipped her hands inside his pockets to keep her hands warm, but then paused when her fingertips touched something familiar.

Heart thudding loudly inside her chest, she pulled out a handful of toffees from his pockets and stared at him with wide eyes.

"Um, you did say toffees are your most favourite candy," he explained with a sheepish smile. "I happened to buy a lot last Hogsmeade weekend, and well, I admittedly prefer other sweets to toffees. So, when you're not looking, I sneak them inside your pockets. You tend to skip meals when you're too engrossed with your studies, after all. At least I thought I'd give you some extra sugar that you might need to keep your brain awake."

Hermione tightly clenched the sweets in her hands and glanced heavenward. "Fuck," she hissed. "Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck this_."

She proceeded to storm away from James, her footsteps heavier as her heart fluttered wildly inside her ribcage. _'No, no, no,'_ she told herself countless times. She wouldn't get swayed, not even when he was being ridiculously sweet and kind and… and _earnest_. Sometimes, Hermione wished he'd just be an obnoxious little twat, proclaiming his interest for her through grand gestures that she'd surely cringe at. But no, _oh no_ , James Potter chose to do it in the sweetest way possible and she was not having any of it!

"Hermione!" the Gryffindor shouted, running quickly towards her and grabbing her arm. He peered down at her flushed face with worry. "What's wrong? Did I say anything wrong?"

"YES!" she bellowed, rounding on him with furious, blue eyes.

James looked uncertain, his grip on her arm loosening. "I'm sorry," he apologised, though it was obvious he didn't even know what he had done wrong. "I – _well_ , if I offended you in any way, I'm really sorry."

"No, _no_ , you can't be like – like that!" she shrieked, gesturing wildly in his general direction.

"What? Her—"

"Why do you have to be _so_ persistent?" she claimed as her hand climbed to her heart. "This wasn't supposed to happen. You and me— it's not— it's _wrong_." She felt stupid at best, especially when her eyes prickled with tears she didn't even wish to show. "But – but you went ahead and proceeded to be all sweet and kind and bloody _earnest_. I can't—" She deflated, all her energy suddenly dissipating with the cold wind as she slumped forward and hung her head. "You're making it so hard for me to avoid you, James Potter."

Her blue eyes met his stunned hazels. A huge, radiant grin then broke out on his face as he clutched both of her cold hands in his big, warm ones. "Then don't avoid me, Hermione," he declared matter-of-factly. "I can see that you like me too, just as much as I like you and _blimey_ you have no idea how frustrating it is to see you dance around your feelings."

"Well, aren't we terribly presumptuous?" she petulantly spat.

But James was unfazed. In fact, he laughed and ducked his head lower so that he could peer at her flushed face. "I don't really understand why you're trying so hard to keep me at an arm's length," he said. "I think we're going to be great together, Hermione."

"James—"

"I've been mighty patient with you because Good Godric, Hermione, I really like you," he said, cutting her off. "And I don't want to botch things up before you've agreed to go on any more dates with me. I knew you'd hate the grand, obnoxious displays of affection I used to pull off for Lily, so I did what you told me to do. I was _earnest_ and – and—"

He dared to draw closer, his face only a hairsbreadth away from hers, and Hermione stopped breathing all together. "I promise I'll make you laugh every day," he continued. "If you'd like, I'll always study with you or escort you back to the Ravenclaw Tower. Just please, please, _please_ , give this a chance."

Despite how confused she felt, Hermione softly snorted. "I will never get rid of you, will I?" she said.

His smile was almost blinding. "Tough luck, Whiskers," he replied. "I don't think I'm going anywhere."

Hermione took a sharp intake of breath and gazed heavenward once more. "Blast it all," she sighed in resignation. When her blue eyes snapped towards James's hopeful ones, she grew determined. " _Fine_. Go to the next Hogsmeade weekend with me. Like a _date_."

James laughed and playfully ruffled his hair. "Blimey, Hermione, you don't need to look so terrifying when asking me out for a date," he joked.

He looked like Christmas had come early, and although a part of her still thought it was a bad idea, she couldn't help but smile ridiculously at how giddy he looked. His hazel eyes almost looked bright brown now, like the very soil after a light drizzle of rain, and the corners of his eyes crinkled in genuine happiness.

James reached forward and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "I might arrive early for our date again," he lightly warned.

His smile grew lopsided, and armed with his mesmerising eyes and windswept hair, Hermione couldn't help but to sigh. He still looked so much like Harry, but looking at him evoked different emotions. Every time she had gazed at Harry Potter, all Hermione felt was a strong sense of duty and protection. Looking at James Potter, however, gave her dizzying emotions, a whirlwind of both familiar and strange, confusing feelings that she truly wanted to unravel to her heart's content.

Perhaps this was still a bad idea, but Hermione couldn't hold back anymore.

* * *

**November 8, 1977**

Hermione was startled when a book was slid in front of her.

For a moment, she blinked dumbly at the book, the words _Magick Moste Evile_ scrawled menacingly on the front, and the cover almost peeling off from age and use. A brief glance at the spine made her conclude this book had been really well loved.

Grimacing, she directed her eyes towards Regulus Black. "I brought the proverbial olive branch," he said, stiffly gesturing at the vile book.

Blood rushed to Hermione's ears, and she once again glanced at the book with newfound excitement. "I thought you'd never come," she confessed.

Regulus slumped forward, his curls curtaining his gaunt face. "I had a lot of things to think about," he gruffly explained. His steely grey eyes met hers, hardened with a determination Hermione had never seen him wear before. "And I've already arrived at a decision."

Hermione nodded her head and instantly pulled out her wand. She scanned the library, relieved that it was relatively devoid of students today. With a few, quick waves, she incanted various spells which would protect them from being overheard.

Satisfied with her handiwork, Hermione pocketed her wand and glanced at Regulus once more. "Last chance, Regulus," she whispered. "Do you really want to do this?"

He clenched his hands into tight fists, his knuckles almost stark white against the dark, wooden table. His jaw tensed with nervous anticipation, but his eyes still looked resolute. "I'm sure," he said with a tight nod. "I know it's stupid to trust _you_ easily, especially someone as brilliant as you, but I—" He clamped his lips tight, his fists clenching more. "I want to trust you, Pettigrew, because I'm so _tired_ of doing what is expected of me."

Hermione's heart went out to the poor boy, her hand immediately darting forward to hold one of his fists. "I'll try my best to help you," she proclaimed unwaveringly. "There might be things that confuse you, things that might make you _suspicious_ , but I promise you, everything will make sense in the end. Please always trust me."

In spite of the tense atmosphere, Regulus lightly smirked. "That isn't something you should say when you want someone to trust you, Pettigrew," he drawled. "No wonder you weren't Sorted into Slytherin."

"Besides my Blood Status?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"There are plenty of Half-Bloods in our House. And _please_ , you have Selwyn blood coursing in your veins," he pointed out with a scoff. "The Slytherin House would have gained an asset if you had been Sorted there."

"I'll take that as a compliment," she said with a soft chuckle. "But _pass_. I heard the Slytherin dormitories are terribly cold, especially in winter."

"Of course there are a bunch of heating charms," Regulus said, followed by a derisive snort. "We're bloody witches and wizards. We're not some cold-blooded reptiles who thrive in cold temperatures."

Hermione broke into a huge grin, relieved that they could still easily fall into conversation, even if he'd avoided her like the plague for the past two months.

Regulus grew a bit uncomfortable at her earnest expression and gestured at the thick tome instead. "So, why'd you want me to get this from Grimmauld?" he asked.

"Because Voldemort's downfall is written in here," she stated matter-of-factly, ignoring how he flinched at the mention of his name. "There's a copy here in the library, but it's in the Restricted Section. Professor Flitwick would surely grow suspicious if I asked for his permission slip."

"It is an evil book," Regulus said, lips curling at the tattered book. "Unsurprisingly, it's my mother's favourite book."

Hermione scowled at the mention of Walburga, memories of her shrieking painting resurfacing in her mind. Shaking her head to rid herself of thoughts of the incorrigible woman, Hermione opened the book and breezed through the pages.

Finally, she arrived at the chapter she was looking for. "Here," she said, pointing at the title of the book designed with black smoke and skulls.

"Hor… crux?" Regulus mouthed, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. He briefly scanned the chapter, which was more of a paragraph, really. "'Of the Horcruxes, wickedest of magical inventions, we shall not speak nor give direction…'." He lifted his eyes to frown at Hermione. "Well, that's terribly helpful."

"This is the only book I know which even briefly mentions them," she said with a frustrated sigh. "You see, it is the vilest of all Dark Arts. Even a book boasting descriptions of the evilest magic refuses to speak about it. There is only one book that details how to make a horcrux. Though, I doubt it would be housed in Grimmauld Place."

"Then, how do you know about this?" Regulus asked, his grey eyes suspiciously narrowing.

Hermione merely shook her head. "I cannot answer that yet," she said with a dismissive frown. "What I can tell you is what a horcrux is. Are you sure you've never heard about them before? Something your parents might have mentioned in passing?" She sighed when Regulus shook his head. "Figures. Even Voldemort had a hard time researching them before."

Regulus looked like he was about to ask another question, but bit his bottom lip to stop himself in the end.

"Basically, a horcrux is an artifact that houses a piece of a wizard's or witch's soul," she sombrely continued, her voice low enough that Regulus had to lean closer just to hear her words. "It is said that if the maker commits a crime most foul – _murder_ – the soul will be damaged. A fragment of one's soul can then be ripped off from the maker via a spell and can be housed in whatever artifact he wishes. The sole purpose of why a horcrux is created is—"

"—immortality," Regulus breathlessly claimed. He looked highly disturbed and scooted away from the book. "It makes sense. If Vol – the _Dark Lord_ claims he is invincible, then his body cannot be destroyed."

"Technically, you _can_ do it," she corrected matter-of-factly. "It just means you cannot entirely get rid of that person since he still has a horcrux binding him to this very earth. Dark magic can be used to give the dark wizard another corporeal form."

Regulus knitted his eyebrows, deep in thought. "So, the only way to destroy an invincible wizard such as Voldemort is to destroy his horcrux," he deliberately said, realisation dawning on him.

"Horcruxes, plural, actually."

His eyes grew wide with horror and surprise. " _What_?" he asked.

"I think, if I'm not wrong, Voldemort has already made five horcruxes," she explained calmly.

" _Five_?" he gasped, considerably paling at this information. "How do you know all about this? Are you a fucking Seer?"

Hermione wryly smiled. "Hardly," she replied.

"Then how—"

"Just trust me for now, Regulus," she hastily said, closing the vile book and pushing it towards him. She took a quick glance at her wristwatch and grimaced. "It's best if you leave. Curfew's in a few minutes."

"Pettigrew—"

"I'll answer some of your questions tomorrow night at the Astronomy Tower, I promise," she said with a tone of finality in her voice.

"But—"

Hermione pierced him with a firm glare. "I will tell you _everything_ ," she vowed. "But not now. All in due time. Just please, please _trust_ me for now, Regulus."

He looked like he still wanted to ask a question, but before he could open his mouth, her name was suddenly called.

Hermione's eyes widened. Her eyes met James's steely hazel ones, his lips pressed firmly. Underneath the table, she deftly terminated the spells she placed around their table. "James," she slowly said. "What are you doing here?"

"It's almost curfew," he blurted out. When his hazel eyes swept to the silent Slytherin, he frowned. "I came to escort you back to the Ravenclaw Tower."

She glanced at Regulus, who now was casually gazing at the Head Boy, looking as if he they weren't talking about Voldemort's downfall just a while ago. Hermione silently kicked his shin under the table, forcing him to look at her. "Leave. Now," she mouthed.

A strange smirk flitted on his face, deftly glancing back at James and ignoring her all together. This prompted James to scowl in annoyance.

"You're not done for the day?" the Gryffindor gruffly asked.

Hermione surreptitiously pushed _Magick Moste Evile_ towards Regulus. "He's just leaving," she said. "I will be leaving soon too."

Regulus stubbornly kept himself seated on the chair across from her. Hermione kicked his shin again, this time with more force. This made the Slytherin flinch a bit as he threw a light glare her way. " _Leave_ ," she mouthed once more, slightly panicking at the thought that James might see the evil book on their table and start asking difficult questions.

The Black heir rolled his eyes and finally, _blessedly_ , stood up from his chair. He grabbed _Magick Moste Evile_ , gave her a curt goodbye, and swiftly swept out of the library.

Her gaze settled back on the tense Head Boy once Regulus completely disappeared from the library. "You didn't have to escort me back to the Ravenclaw Tower," she said, internally sighing in relief. James didn't seem to notice the book at all.

"And I promised you I will anyway."

She frowned at his grumpy tone. "Why are you mad?" she snapped.

His scowl deepened as he started to wordlessly cram Hermione's things inside her bag. "No, I'm not," he shot back.

His expression was strangely reminiscent of that time he came to the library and found her studying with Regulus. She didn't understand his behaviour back then, but as she silently observed the annoyed Head Boy, his declaration of affection for her echoing in her ears, Hermione's eyes widened in realisation.

"Are you… are you _jealous_?"

The way his cheeks reddened was already telling. "No, I'm not," he petulantly replied.

Hermione snorted in disbelief. "Yes you are, you berk," she said. "And with _Regulus_?"

He bristled with the mention of his name. "You're spending an awful lot of time with him," he cried, not bothering to come up with a lie anymore.

A soft laugh escaped from her lips as she stood up. This only made him more embarrassed. "We're just friends," she reassured. " _And_ … we're not even together, James Potter. Blimey."

" _Yet_ ," he sniped back, swinging the strap of her back on his shoulder. "Need I remind you you asked me out for a Hogsmeade date, Whiskers?"

This time, it was her turn to blush. " _Yes_ ," she replied. "But it's just that. A date."

"Hmm."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

James sighed, almost exasperatedly. "Nothing." He awkwardly scratched his chin and glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes. "So you and Sirius's brother—"

"We're just friends," she insisted once more.

"Well, _you_ really do spend an awful lot of time with him," he blurted out. "I mean, every time I searched for your name in the Map, you're always with him and—" James's eyes widened in horror, realising what he had just revealed.

Hermione had skidded into a halt and gaped at the Head Boy. "You were _spying_ on me? On the bloody Map?" Her voice had grown shrilly, prompting James to flinch.

"It was just one time," he hastily assured. Hermione scoffed and crossed her arms against her chest. "Okay, so maybe I did it twice or thrice…" Her eyes turned steely, watching as a blush bloomed on both of his cheeks. "Not more than five times, Hermione. I promise!" He groaned and ran a hand through his face. "I know, I know. It's not a nice thing to do. Bordering creepy, even."

"You got that bloody right, you prat," she sniped. Mentally, she thought that it would be disastrous if the Marauders started to get suspicious with her constant secret meetings with Regulus. Helping Regulus was already a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing and Hermione still had no clear idea how she would do it. She'd rather she didn't drag the Marauders into this mess.

An idea suddenly formed in her mind as she extended her hand. "Give it to me," she said. "I'm confiscating it."

"You can't do that!" he exclaimed. "You're not even a Marauder."

Hermione snorted. "I thought I am the truest Marauder of us all?" she cheekily replied.

"Is it really necessary, Hermione?" he whined, his bottom lip protruding into a small pout.

"I'm going to return it to you soon enough," she reassured. "You and your friends have become very dependent of it, though. Not to mention, you're using it to _spy_ on me, so there's that too."

"The other blokes will get mad."

Hermione rolled her eyes and incessantly shook her hand. "I don't care, Potter," she demanded. "If you don't give it to me, I'm going to cancel our Hogsmeade date."

"Resorting to blackmailing me now, are we?" he grumbled. Hermione stood her ground and gave him a firm glare. Finally, James expelled a huge, resigned sigh. "Fine. Blimey. Thank Merlin, I really bloody like you."

Her cheeks reddened at his casual declaration. James rummaged inside his bag and pulled out the Marauder's Map. Hermione was about to snatch it from his hands, but the Head Boy pressed it against his chest. "This is a _treasure_ , Hermione," he lightly warned. "Take care of it."

She remembered all the adventures she had with Harry and Ron, able to sneak around Hogwarts just to bloody save the whole world. "I'm going to return it to you," she promised.

He sighed once more and tentatively placed the parchment on her awaiting hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean, y'all have been demanding for it. I told you this fic is slow burn-y! Please don't be mad if you get super frustrated hahahaha.
> 
> You still have a lot questions in you reviews and like what I've said before, you'll get your answers soon enough as the story progresses. Basically, we're kind of far from the climax of this whole story so you have no choice but to suffer in silence and anticipation for now ahahahahaha. I guess you can say that this whole fic is really slow burn-y – romance and plot-wise.
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr! (kimmy-writes)


	26. chapter twenty-five

* * *

**xxv.**

_**fall in love in a single touch** _

(Touch by Sleeping at Last)

* * *

**November 9, 1977**

She was the first one to arrive at the Astronomy Tower this time.

Hermione transformed back into her human form and silently strode towards the railing. Blessedly, it was dark, for Hermione could not see the ground clearly from where she stood. Normally, she would have balked at the thought of staring down at such a great height, but darkness protectively blanketed the grounds, giving Hermione a sense of safety.

Her blue eyes drifted towards the inky, night sky, the crescent moon hanging peacefully amongst the twinkling stars. She quirked a small smile upon spying the constellation Cassiopeia, her hand unwittingly touching the freckles on her face that shared the same image. Peter used to connect her freckles into ridiculous shapes using markers when they were younger, which always got him into trouble. He loved to draw Cassiopeia though - told her it suited her pale face, and Hermione would release a small bit of her accidental magic, just to get back at her brother.

"Pettigrew."

She quickly swivelled around and saw Regulus coolly standing near the threshold of the Tower. Hermione silently observed him, noting that compared to the last time they had spoken here, Regulus looked calmer and more relaxed today.

"Hello," she said, pushing herself off the railing to saunter towards the Slytherin.

"Let's cut the pleasantries and get on with the matter at hand," he lightly snapped, striding towards Hermione to shorten the distance between them.

Hermione looked at him bemusedly, surprised at his sudden energy.

"What do you mean by _five_ horcruxes," he harshly asked.

"No 'Hello, Hermione. How was your day'?"

Regulus made a face and pulled out his wand. "I said no pleasantries," he reiterated as he absentmindedly transfigured two armchairs for them to sit on. "So. Five horcruxes."

Hermione sighed and plopped down on one of the chairs. She pulled out her wand and shot a series of spells towards the door, just in case they needed to be alerted to approaching professors or caretakers. The Marauder's Map was hidden inside her pockets too, but so far, no authorities were venturing towards the Tower.

"So, like I said, Voldemort made five horcruxes," she then said, rummaging inside her pocket to pull out a parchment, an ink well, and her turkey quill.

"How much can you fit in your pockets?" Regulus asked with wide, amused eyes.

"Enough," Hermione distractedly said. She then proceeded to jot down notes on her parchment, aware that Regulus was hovering near her, trying to make out the words she was writing.

Once she was done, she pushed the parchment in his direction and pointed at the list. "These are the possible horcruxes he's already made to keep himself immortal. There's Ravenclaw's Diadem" – "What? But that's been lost for like ages?" – "his diary" – "The _Dark Lord_ kept a _diary_?" – "Hufflepuff's Cup and Slytherin's Locket" – "Well now he's just desecrating treasures" – "And lastly a ring, a family heirloom. And, _Merlin_ , can you keep the side comments to a minimum!"

Regulus blinked at Hermione in surprise, before quirking an eyebrow in amusement. "Right, of course. Apologies," he haughtily said.

Hermione sighed and gestured at the parchment. "If we want to destroy Voldemort, we have to collect all of these before he starts making more," she insisted.

"He plans to make _more_?" Regulus paled considerably, warily glaring at the parchment in her hands.

"You have no idea," she murmured under her breath, smoothing down the edges of the parchment in slight worry. "Procuring the horcruxes may be easier said than done, but I have an idea about where they're hidden. Destroying them, on the other hand, well that's an entirely different story."

Hermione made a face and wondered about the dormant basilisk sleeping at the base of this beloved school. Fiendfyre was out of the question because she knew she could never control it, unless she asked for help from powerful wizards. Like _Dumbledore_. But Hermione didn't want to get involved with Dumbledore yet. She still somewhat blamed him for their lack of preparedness before. If only he'd have divulged a _fraction_ of what they had discovered on their own, then Hermione felt like the war wouldn't have stretched on for much longer than they had intended.

"How the hell do you know all of this?" he asked, perhaps for the umpteenth time. "This is crazy bullshite, Pettigrew. I'd like to think you are lying, but you've been too bloody detailed for me to even consider this as an elaborate lie. Granted, you have the brains to conjure such a ridiculous thing, but I don't think your imagination would run that wild, just to convince me to turn my back on the Dark Lord."

She swallowed down a lump in her throat and glanced down at the parchment once more. "I truly wish I could tell you, Regulus," she softly said. "But I – it's too _risky_ for you to know. I'll tell you when I'm ready because I'm sure you'll think I'm off my rocker. I just want you to trust me."

Regulus grew pensive for a while, an indecipherable glint in his silver eyes. "If you're worried your secret might be revealed to others, then you have nothing to worry about," he slowly said. "I'm a natural Occlumens and my Father has trained me these past few years to strengthen my talent. It's a useful thing, especially if you are under the Dark Lord's very beck and call."

Hermione gave him a sad smile. "I trust you, Regulus," she said reassuringly. "But, I'm really not ready yet. Helping you wasn't even part of the plan. But" – she gestured at herself – "here I am now."

His gaze never strayed from Hermione. "Why are you really doing this?" he tentatively asked. "Why do you want to help me."

The answer tumbled from her lips before she could even think of it. "Because I want Voldemort to die," she breathlessly revealed. "Maybe even more than you do."

Regulus's eyes narrowed in curiosity, no doubt wondering what she meant. Hermione, on the other hand, found herself lost in Hermione Granger's memories - near-death encounters with the vilest wizard she had never met and how he, and his cronies, were the reason for all the turmoil back in her previous life.

Her eyes grew resolute even when they became blurred with tears. Hermione Granger may have failed, but Hermione Pettigrew sure as hell knew she would fight tooth and nail just to get another shot at destroying the purveyor of evil in this world. If it meant Ron would live until a ripe old age, if it meant Harry's face would be unmarred by a scar, if it meant all of Hermione Granger's friends would never even have to face Voldemort and his wrath at such a young age, then so be it.

"What do we do next?" the Slytherin whispered, breaking through her tumultuous thoughts.

Hermione rapidly blinked before glancing back at him. She pointed at the number one on her list, a determined grimace on her face. "Retrieving Ravenclaw's Diadem will be the easiest of them all because it's _here_ , in Hogwarts," she said.

"A horcrux in Hogwarts?" he asked, looking as if it was the most preposterous thing he'd ever heard of.

"Yes," she replied. "And I know where it's hidden."

Regulus still looked deeply disturbed, but nodded nonetheless. "All right," he agreed. "When do you propose to retrieve it?"

Hermione pierced him with her blue eyes. "Collecting the horcruxes will be a difficult task, Regulus," she gravely said. "We can do it after we return from the holidays." Regulus opened his mouth to protest, but Hermione was already shaking her head. "I'm asking a lot from you. If you agree to team up with me and to collect all the horcruxes, then I have to rely on your Death Eater status to retrieve the other, more difficult ones."

He made a face, clearly displeased with her words, but stiffly nodded in the end.

"I'll give you another few weeks to think this through," she said, reaching forward to grasp his arm. "This will be _dangerous_. You might end up sacrificing your life if the situation calls for it."

It was unspoken how she resolutely refused for that situation to ever arise. She'd lost too much already in the war in her previous world. Hermione would do whatever it took to keep all of her friends alive and to bring Voldemort down at the same time.

His face was pale and his eyes were mighty nervous, but Regulus clenched his jaw and resolutely stared at Hermione. "I don't need to think about it anymore," he said with vehemence. "I really want all of this to end, Pettigrew."

She squeezed his arm for comfort and stiffly nodded her head. "Okay," she whispered. "Okay."

* * *

**November 27, 1977**

James had been true to his words and had arrived early to meet her at Ravenclaw Tower. He was less nervous now, _cockier_ even, and he unabashedly stared at Hermione's attire with thinly-veiled appreciation in his eyes. "You look nice," was his greeting, flashing his handsome, lopsided grin. "No, scratch that. You look _amazing_."

Her cheeks flushed at his compliment, unused to being called as such. Hermione briefly glanced at her Muggle winter attire, noting she wasn't even wearing anything special. She definitely hadn't put too much thought into her clothes, but she had tried to still look decent for her date. Hermione was currently wearing Muggle denim jeans and boots to protect her from the cold. She also donned a maroon corduroy jacket that was toasty enough to make her comfortable.

James's grin widened at her flustered state, prompting her to glare at him and stomp down the staircase. The Gryffindor easily caught up with her as they strode towards the castle doors.

As they neared the outside, Hermione spied three familiar blokes leaning against the wall, obviously waiting for someone.

" _Shite_ ," James cursed, quickly scanning around for an escape route. But it was already too late, as Remus spied the two of them and quickly slapped both Sirius's and Peter's arms.

"Hermione?" her brother asked, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

"Why are you still here?" James quickly asked, cheeks flaring as he took a few steps away from Hermione.

"It was bloody suspicious why you wanted to ditch us today all of a sudden," Sirius complained.

Peter's eyes never left Hermione's. "I thought you said you were going on a date," he said, his question directed at James.

Hermione heard James's soft _shite_ once more and couldn't stop herself from snorting. "He is," she simply said.

"With whom?" Sirius asked, wildly looking around, expecting this mysterious girl to pop out any minute now.

Remus, rolling his eyes, whacked him on the underside of his head. "With _her_ ," he said, jutting his chin in her direction. "Obviously." There was unadulterated amusement in Remus's golden eyes, his gaze shifting from a steadily flushing James to an equally amused Hermione.

" _What_?" Peter thundered. Hermione's eyes swivelled back to her brother, who by now was stomping closer with a thunderous expression on his face.

Hermione had never seen Peter wear such an expression before. Much less an expression directed at _James_ , the boy he'd been hero-worshipping since he was eleven years old. To add to the bizarreness of it all, James looked absolutely terrified of Peter.

"Look now, mate," James tried to appease. "I really wanted to tell you, but I hadn't found the right time."

She rolled her eyes when James shrank before Peter, who was ridiculously trying to tower over him, even though he was a few inches shorter than the Head Boy. Both Sirius and Remus found the whole thing hilarious and had been trying – but failing – to keep their bubbling laughter inside.

"Peter, honestly," Hermione implored with an exasperated sigh. "It's just a date."

Peter's blue eyes swivelled to Hermione, suddenly looking confused. "But you're—" He vigorously gestured at her, trying to convey his emotions through his actions, which Hermione didn't understand. "Hermione, you're just a—"

"Try to finish that sentence, you berk, and we'll see what the first spell I come up with is," Hermione warned with a deep frown. James's eyes almost popped out of their sockets, gaping at the Ravenclaw with the same equal terror he'd shown Peter a while ago.

Her brother clamped his lips together tightly and frowned. A staring contest between the Pettigrew siblings happened, something she and Peter usually engaged with during days when they'd had a terrible row. Hermione never backed down, unwilling to stare away first. Peter was stubborn, too, especially on his most incorrigible days. But Hermione never lost a staring contest with her brother. Predictably, it was Peter who looked away first, a dark scowl now plastered on his face.

"Peter," James suddenly called, drawing their attention to him. The bespectacled wizard looked nervous, yet resolute, as he ruffled his hair once more to make it stick in impossible directions. "I'm terribly, _terribly_ sorry, but I really _really_ like your sister."

A blush crept from her chest up to the roots of her hair, disbelieving how genuine James's expression was. Hermione found herself unable to bite back a small smile, shyly glancing down at the ground so that she could hide it from the others.

Sirius blew a low whistle. "So, _you're_ the girl our Jamesy boy's been patiently waiting for," he pointed out, clarity now on his face.

"It's just a simple date, Peter," Hermione insisted once more. "I think your… _overprotectiveness_ is sweet, but bloody uncalled for. I know a litany of spells that would make any man run for his life, before he even attempted to hurt me."

James released a soft, nervous chuckle, paling slightly at her claim. "Good thing you have other stellar features that outshine how truly terrifying you are, eh, Whiskers?" he said, attempting to ease the tension amongst the group.

Peter ignored James and frowned at his sister once more. "Hermione—"

"It's just a _simple_ date," she blurted out for the third time. "If things don't work out, we can all go back to our old, merry ways."

She knew this would _never_ work out because James would realise before he graduated that he still loved Lily after all. Hermione ignored the uncomfortable clench her heart had made at the thought, steadfastly latching onto the fact that Harry Potter must be born in this world, with James's face and Lily's eyes. That was all that mattered.

She even ignored how James frowned at her words because she knew if she dwelled on it deeper, it would be more difficult to detach herself from this exasperating boy.

Peter finally expelled a resigned sigh and warily threw a glare at James. "If you hurt her, James, I _swear_ …"

"Peter," Hermione groaned. " _Honestly_."

"I won't," James ground out with a determined stare. "Marauder's honour."

Her brother stared at the taller wizard for a moment, before he stiffly nodded his head and looked away. He wordlessly strode back to Sirius and Remus, who had identical smiles of amusement on their faces.

"Don't worry about us today," Sirius assured as he threw an arm over Peter's shoulders and pulled him close. "Just go have fun, you kids."

"I bloody well knew it," Remus then revealed with a short laugh. Upon seeing the confused faces on James and Hermione, he continued, "You weren't being discreet about it, if you must know. And Prongs has been acting really strange for the past few days, especially with Hermione around. It was easy to piece two and two together."

The shaggy-haired Marauder nodded his head to concur. "I sometimes wondered why you'd been extra sweet to Hermione," he revealed.

James, now visibly relieved that Peter had backed down, immediately strode towards Hermione and casually threw his arm over her shoulders. Hermione stiffened at the action, her eyes widening a bit as she gazed up at the triumphant wizard. "See you later, wankers," he said.

Sirius threw him a mock salute while Remus bid them goodbye with a smile. Peter still petulantly stared ahead, unwilling to look back at his sister and his best mate.

"Don't worry about Peter," Hermione assured once the other three were out of earshot. "He's a buffoon. He'll get over it soon."

James grinned down at her, his eyes twinkling behind his spectacles. "He adores you, Hermione," he continued. "Peter really changes when something concerns his little sister. _Blimey_ , you should have seen him after, you know, the incident with Snivellus and the full moon. He told us that if you had been hurt because of us, he'd choose you over our friendship in a heartbeat."

Hermione's eyes widened in disbelief. "He said that?" she gasped, surprised.

His smile turned soft. "Yeah," he answered. "He definitely has the Selwyn's temper, Hermione. Especially when the people he loves gets hurt."

She gazed back at the tiny dot that was her brother, her heart swelling with warmth and love. Peter really was the brother Hermione Granger had always wanted. She admittedly questioned before why, of all families, she had fallen into the Pettigrew's lives, most especially when the boy would grow up to become a traitor. But now… _now_ , Hermione was glad that she had grown up as a Pettigrew, with Peter as her brother and Anya as her mother.

She wouldn't change them for the world.

**-ooo-**

James was the first one to jump off the carriage and he held out his hand, waiting for Hermione to take it. She still warily stared at his proffered hand, but took it nonetheless. She deftly jumped out of the carriage and nodded her thanks. James grinned and lightly squeezed her hand before letting it go. The warmth his hand had given her was gone, and frowning, Hermione clenched it into a fist to stop herself from reaching out.

"Where to first?" she quizzically asked, glancing around the crowded streets of Hogsmeade.

"Schrivenshaft's."

Hermione looked at him in surprise, but James was already striding towards the said shop.

The quill shop was filled with students pulling rolls and rolls of parchment from the shelves and buying new school supplies. Christmas holidays were fast approaching; thus, the professors were already piling them with Christmas homework.

James purposively strode towards the counter while Hermione trailed behind. She had nothing to buy here, so she just stuck close to James to stop herself from buying unnecessary things.

"Give me your most expensive quills," the Head Boy haughtily demanded. "Also, the most expensive ink well and parchment too."

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked with wide eyes as the store clerk nodded his head and grabbed said items from James's demands.

He grinned impishly down at Hermione. "You deserve the best," was his mere answer.

Her jaw dropped as the store clerk came back, showing the finest turkey and swan quills, stocks of inkwells in different colours, and parchments charmed not to crease. James thoughtfully picked out the things that caught his eyes and separated them from the rest.

"How much?" he asked.

The store clerk glanced at a yellowing parchment with a hovering Quick Quotes Quill computing the price above it. "That'll be twenty-five galleons," he said.

Hermione took a sharp intake of breath while James merely nodded his head and fished a leather pouch from his robes.

"James," she chided. "It's too expensive."

"'Thank you, James. You're really sweet' will suffice, Hermione," he cheekily replied, tossing the galleons towards the store clerk and grabbing his new purchases. "Think of this as part of my Christmas gift to you."

"A part?" she gasped.

He looked at her like she was barmy. "Well, yes," he said. "Who only wants to get school supplies as a Christmas gift?"

"I do," she snapped, taking offense.

The bespectacled wizard laughed and muttered, "Of course you do." He then walked out of the store together with Hermione, already scanning around. "Do you want to go to Honeydukes next?"

"I still have lots of my toffees," she said. "Besides, _someone_ keeps on giving me enough to last the whole year."

"Lunch then?" he asked, his eyes dancing with laughter. She matched his smile and nodded her head, already walking towards the Three Broomsticks and planning the meal she'd order.

When she entered, her eyes instantly magnetised towards fiery red hair. Lily's eyes lit up when she saw her too, excitedly waving her hand in greeting. Sev gave her a brief smile, but then grimaced upon seeing her companion. One look at James showed he mirrored Sev's face, prompting Hermione to roll her eyes.

"This place is awfully packed today," James complained, gazing around in search of an empty table. "Maybe we can go to Madam Puddifoot's?"

Hermione's eyes widened in horror. "No, I'd rather die," she claimed in an impassioned voice.

James snorted. "I know the place is tacky and all, but they serve decent tea, Hermione," he said.

But the brunette still refused, persistently gazing around the small pub to search for an empty table they could sit at. She even tried to stare down a couple sitting a few tables away, who weren't eating anymore but were too busy making googly eyes at each other.

Frustrated, she blew another breath and glanced back to where Lily and Sev were sitting. Lily was already looking at her, lifting an eyebrow in question.

An idea suddenly formed in Hermione's head and she sheepishly smiled at her best friend. The redhead immediately understood what her gaze meant, for she was vigorously shaking her head, looking at Hermione as if she'd gone barmy. She gestured wildly at her boyfriend, relaying that it would be _bloody_ disastrous. But Hermione was already hungry and she'd rather not step foot in a teashop that reminded her so much of Dolores Umbridge.

"What are you doing?" James asked, bemused.

For her reply, Hermione grabbed onto his sleeve and pulled him towards Lily and Sev. James realised where she was taking him and dug his heels in the ground.

"Hermione," he complained, "this is a bad idea."

"Oh, hush," she tutted, yanking him forward once more until he relented and allowed her to drag him until they had reached her best friends' table.

"Hi," the brunette said with a brilliant smile. Lily was looking at her like she'd grown another head, while Sev was busy staring daggers at James. "There are no more empty tables. Do you mind if we join you?"

"Yes," Sev and James blurted out at the same time.

Hermione's smile grew tight and she pretended she hadn't heard their replies. She proceeded to plop down on the seat across from Sev, yanking James's sleeve once more, until he had no other choice but to slide on the vacant seat beside her.

"Potter," Lily greeted with a hesitant smile, absentmindedly placing a hand on Sev's clenched fist on top of the table to calm him down.

James's eyes swivelled momentarily towards Lily. "Evans," he greeted, then looked back at Sev to glare at him again.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Blimey, what are you both? Five?" she exclaimed in exasperation.

"He's on our table, Pettigrew," Sev gruffly said, glaring darkly at Hermione.

"He's with me," she said, lifting her nose in the air.

Lily's green eyes glinted in curiosity as she leant down closer to the two. "So, is this some kind of a date or something?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow when Hermione's cheeks reddened almost immediately.

James shyly grinned and ruffled his hair. "Yeah," he said, his glare melting into an amused look as he looked back at Lily. "Jealous, Evans?"

"Piss off, Potter," Lily said with a loud snort, but Hermione could see how the corners of her lips were twitching upwards.

"Funny, I remember you asking me out that one time – about bringing you to Hogsmeade," James drawled cockily, leaning back on the chair with a smug smile. "When was that again? Two months ago?"

" _What_?" Hermione and Sev asked at the same time, eyes growing wide as they stared at Lily in disbelief.

Lily scowled at James then sheepishly glanced at the other two. "It was a _test_ ," she explained, appeasing her suddenly infuriated boyfriend. "Potter had been acting really strange and I wanted to test a theory." Her eyes landed on Hermione and she smiled. "It didn't take too long for me to conclude that Potter liked you instead, Hermione - which explained his strange behaviour."

This time, James flushed in embarrassment, but his smile was still in place. "Conniving witch," James said, followed by a boisterous laugh. "I always wondered why you asked me. What a very Slytherin thing to do, Evans."

"Well, I'm dating a _Slytherin_ ," she said, looping an arm around Sev's. "After spending too much time with him, you can't help but pick up his traits."

Hermione silently observed their playful banter, frowning deeply at how annoyingly benign it was. She was expecting some thick tension, nervousness from James' part – even _jealousy_ , if she were being honest with herself – but the two acted like proper, good-natured friends.

"That's absolutely true," James said as he casually swung his arm across Hermione's chair. "After spending a lot of time with Hermione, I think I'm turning into a _swot_."

She slightly stiffened at the feel of his arm, his fingers lightly brushing through her curls.

James then turned to her. "Fancy some butterbeer, Whiskers?" he asked, throwing her an easy smile.

Not trusting herself to speak, she mutely nodded her head. Bloody bloke pointedly stared at her flushed cheeks and smirked triumphantly, knowing full well how his close proximity made her feel.

He deliberately pulled his arm away, intentionally letting his fingers brush the curve of her shoulders, before standing up from his seat and striding towards Madame Rosmerta.

"Godric, Hermione," Lily gushed out, "you're hopeless. I can't believe I _missed_ your feelings for Potter when you're being bloody obvious about them now."

Hermione's cheeks reddened more as she scowled at her best friend. "You knew about his… his _feelings_ ," she exclaimed. "How come you didn't tell me?"

Lily snorted. "And miss all the fun?" she asked, tossing her glossy red hair over her shoulder. "Potter was bloody obvious, Hermione. He may be a toerag, but he most definitely wears his heart on his sleeve. I admit it took me a while to realise it, because I was busy trying to get away from him before he started being annoying again. But, once I had pieced everything together, it made _perfect_ sense." She jutted a thumb at the Slytherin beside her. "Even Sev arrived at that conclusion."

Hermione looked at Sev with wide eyes, prompting him to roll his eyes. "I can't believe you're being mighty obtuse about this, Hermione," he said with a disappointed sigh. "Brightest witch of her age, my arse."

The Ravenclaw leaned forward and swatted his arm. Lily released a mock gasp and hugged her boyfriend, seemingly protecting him from Hermione's violent outbursts. "Not the sourpuss, Hermione!" she exclaimed. "He growls easily."

Said sourpuss caught himself mid-growl and threw a dark glare at his girlfriend instead.

Hermione laughed when Lily merely grinned, mercilessly teasing Sev until the Slytherin was flustered and annoyed. James chose that moment to saunter back to their table, a hovering tray with butterbeers and chips following him from behind.

"Ack, are they always this gross?" James said, scrunching his nose.

The brunette laughed and looked at him with twinkling eyes. "Always."

**-ooo-**

Surprisingly, conversation among them had been easy and relaxed. James and Sev still continuously glared at each other, but they would become distracted by a question asked by the witches. James constantly teased Lily, and the redhead would constantly tell him to piss off, but Hermione noted that Lily was steadily warming up to the Potter heir. Perhaps, it was a step in the right direction, and Hermione forced herself to smile throughout the conversation, convincing herself this was the right thing to do.

Their stay at The Three Broomsticks stretched on until the sun began setting outside. Lily and Sev bid them goodbye first, claiming they still needed to go to Honeydukes to buy their sweets.

"You know," James idly said, facing Hermione once the couple had gone, "I have a confession to make."

Her heart clenched painfully inside her chest, unsure what his words pertained to. "Yeah?" she breathlessly asked.

"After spending time with your best friends today, I have concluded that Evans and I could never have worked out," James said, followed by a soft laugh. Hermione's eyes widened at his declaration. "I hate to bloody say this, but Snive – _Snape_ is good for Lily. I mean, really, _really_ good, considering who he is and how smarmy he can be."

Hermione wordlessly glanced at this boy, trying to search his face for even any semblance of animosity or jealousy. But James looked anything but, his hazel eyes bright, an amused smile stretched on his face.

Hermione didn't know how to feel about that.

James suggested they went back to Hogwarts since it was getting darker. Hermione was silent throughout their journey, her mind still a jumbled mess from thinking about all things James, Lily and the future. She knew James was sending nervous, worried looks at her, but she couldn't form any words that would reassure him.

Before she knew it, she was staring at the entrance door to Ravenclaw Tower.

"Hey, Hermione, I—" James awkwardly ran a hand through his hair and smiled shyly at her. "I had fun today, honest."

She managed to show a small smile. "Yeah, me too," she said. Despite the contemplating she had done, she _did_ have fun with James today.

He looked highly doubtful. "Yeah?" he asked, uncertain. "You became quiet on the way back to Hogwarts so I was worried things didn't end well."

"I'm sorry," she sighed, her cheeks splattering with pink. "I just had a lot of things on my mind."

"Like?"

"Never mind that," she said with a soft smile. "Thank you for today, James. I really had fun, too."

He nervously ran a hand through his hair once more, looking as if he wanted to say something more. Hermione patiently waited for him to start speaking, watching him with mild amusement as he relentlessly fussed with his hair.

"This isn't the last date, right?" he finally blurted out, his face crumpling in ridiculous terror.

Something in Hermione's heart stirred. She somehow felt exhausted - from all the denying and the pulling away. With a tentative smile, she replied, "Maybe this isn't the last. Maybe another one won't hurt at all."

The relieved smile he gave her made her breath hitch. "So, does this mean we really are going out?" he asked giddily, his hazel eyes glinting with hope and happiness again

She flushed and nervously laughed. "I don't know," she honestly said. "I haven't really been in a lot of relationships to know how things become official. And… I… there's still a lot of confusing things to work out, and—"

James cut her off with a chuckle, reaching forward to cup her cheek with his big, warm hand. Hermione froze, her eyes growing wide, as James leant closer so that his eyes were level with hers. She honestly thought he would kiss her right there and then, and Hermione wondered whether she would lean forward or pull away. His eyes briefly darted at her parted lips, his hazel eyes darkening with an emotion that almost stole her breath away.

"We'll slow things down," he whispered, his lips almost brushing against hers. "There's no need to rush."

Not trusting herself to speak, Hermione nodded her head twice.

A teasing smirk slowly grew on his face as he finally pulled away. Hermione bit her bottom lip, trying to swallow down a disappointed groan. "It's terribly easy to fluster you, Whiskers," he claimed. He laughingly dodged her heavy hand, muttering a brief apology for his teasing. Hermione lifted her hand once more to swat his arm, but James caught it with his hand, halting her in the process.

His eyes softened as he stared at their clasped hands. He shifted their hands together until his fingers laced through hers. "If," he whispered, cheeks reddening a bit, "If I come here tomorrow to walk you down to breakfast, would you let me hold your hand?"

He slowly met her startled gaze and smiled. "I promise not to cross a line if it makes you uncomfortable, Hermione," he quickly added.

Hermione tore her gaze away from him and looked at their clasped hands. James's hand was big and warm, and calloused from constantly holding his wooden broom. His hand perfectly fit hers, like a puzzle piece clicking into the right place.

Her heart thudded loudly against her ribcage and she wondered if James could hear it.

"Yes," she finally breathed out. Her eyes met his once more. "Yes, you can."

* * *

**November 28, 1977**

The next day, Hermione woke up due to a deafening crack of thunder. There was a torrential storm outside her window, which made her miserable. Her hair was more monstrous and she didn't want to leave her bed at all. But her stomach was protesting and she didn't want to skip breakfast.

She freshened up, donned her uniform and grabbed for her bag, before striding out of her room. She noted with mild amusement that the other students were annoyed by the sudden storm. It was extra cold and despite the roaring fire and murmured warming charms, the chill stubbornly stayed.

Hermione sighed and hugged herself tighter as she climbed out of their common room.

She instantly saw James, leaning casually against the bannister whilst absentmindedly tossing his Golden Snitch in the air. His eyes immediately landed on hers when he heard the door closing behind her.

"Hi," he greeted with a toothy grin.

"Hi," she replied back.

James pushed himself away from the bannister and pocketed the golden ball. He wordlessly grabbed her bag and slung it across his shoulders. "Hungry?" he asked.

"Bloody starving," Hermione moodily replied.

He laughed and leaned closer to Hermione, his arm sliding down until he clutched her cold hand. Hermione shyly shifted them together until her fingers could lace through his.

James's smile was like the bright sun, which was absolutely ridiculous, because the storm outside was raging and persistent. And Hermione couldn't look away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, some Jamione fluff to soothe your troubled hearts haha!
> 
> As always, your reviews brighten my day. I hope you all have a good day and please stay safe and healthy!
> 
> Also, for the umpteenth time, this story is a slow burn – romance and plot-wise. Sorry if I make y'all super frustrated, but Hermione's been through a lot. I'm not even sure if I should be saying this hahaha but, the Hermione in this story went through an unending war, planned to run away with her best friend she'd stuck with since she was eleven, but when she finally had another shot in life, she's alone. Of course she'd hesitate a lot because she's very sad and very tired. Ahahahah I'm so sorry I really just need to say this. Things will get better. I promise!
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes)


	27. chapter twenty-six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ASDFHASDJG 600 KUDOS!!!

* * *

**xxvi.**

_**it starts with our eyes well acquainted with the dark** _

(Overture by Sleeping at Last)

* * *

**December 25, 1977**

Hermione watched her brother in amusement as he nervously darted from one room to another.

Today was Christmas Day, meaning that Mary MacDonald was coming over and joining the Pettigrew family for Christmas lunch. Peter had thankfully gotten over his initial hesitation and had invited Mary over to finally meet his family. Anya was actually the first one to know about this. Hermione was only able to discover it when her mother sent an owl, excitedly breaking the news and already wondering what she would do for Christmas lunch.

Hermione's amused glance landed on their small dining table, decorated with stuffed Christmas turkey and pigs in blankets, baked potatoes, delectable puddings and pies with pitchers of pumpkin juice and tea. It was relatively less grand than the last meal Anya had prepared for Lily and Sev. Knowing her mother, Hermione had taken it upon herself to help Anya make Christmas lunch, making sure she didn't get too excited and start baking and cooking enough to feed a battalion.

"Peter," Hermione called out with a laugh. "Blimey, just sit down."

Peter walked out of the toilet looking paler than usual. "Listen, Mary is _brilliant_ ," he vehemently reassured. "Maybe she gets a little too excited with things she loves – Sirius did once say she _gushes_ a lot – but she's terribly sweet and very kind and—"

His sister laughed once more, cutting him off from his tirade. "I'm sure she'll be fantastic," she replied. "James did say she's a riot and she's close with Lily."

"Speaking of James," her mother piped up as she laid a tray of various biscuits on the table, "why didn't _you_ invite him over?"

Hermione's cheeks reddened, unable to meet her mother's eyes. "It's not the same as Peter, Mum," she said with a deep frown on her face.

"Oh, it's _definitely_ like my relationship with Mary!" Peter exclaimed, stomping inside the kitchens. "You should have seen how much hand-holding they've been doing lately, Mum."

"Shut up," she hissed with a glare, swatting him across his chest.

Anya quirked an eyebrow, clear interest in her eyes. "Well, sweetheart," her mother said, "why don't you invite him over for New Years?"

"It's not like that," the brunette insisted once more. "Besides, the Potters are spending the holiday in Italy to visit family. They'll be gone until a few days before the start of term."

She noticed how Peter and Anya exchanged meaningful glances, prompting her to scowl darkly at the Yorkshire pudding she was making.

Her relationship with James was still… _complicated_ , simply put. She already allowed herself to give in to temptation and had basked under the sunshine she realised he had always been. She had already allowed herself to hold his hand while they walked through the school corridors, or to spend study sessions with him alone in the library, or to even let him carry whatever things she had around just so he could shift them in his arms and hold her hand again.

Hermione knew she was venturing through dangerous waters. It had been exhausting fighting to pull away from James's orbit, which was why she had finally relented. What was worrisome, however, was what would happen if she let herself get too attached. What would happen to her if James realised Lily Evans was the only one for him? What would she do then?

Which was why, _no_ , this relationship wasn't the same as Peter and Mary, because Peter looked like he wanted to spend his forever with her.

Hermione couldn't, for obvious reasons, of course.

These thoughts ceased when their doorbell rang. Peter stiffened momentarily, before he broke into the widest smile, and ran off towards the door.

He soon came back, Mary MacDonald towing behind.

The raven-haired witch with a sweet face shyly smiled at them. Hermione noted how she still wore semi-formal dress robes despite Peter's insistence that she could wear something casual. Although a Half-blood like them, Mary mostly grew up in a Wizarding household and such traditions were hard to break.

"Good afternoon," she politely said.

"Hello," Anya said, hastily wiping her hands on her apron. She strode quickly towards the witch and beamed brightly. "I'm Anya, Peter and Hermione's mother. Come and sit down, sweetheart. I heard you like biscuits with chamomile tea? I've prepared enough to last you a year." And she started to sweetly laugh, melting whatever nervousness Mary had.

As Anya pulled the witch towards the table, Hermione smiled, noting what Sirius meant when he'd said Mary gushed a lot. But the girl was sweet, and very polite to her mother. Hermione could already see the twinkling in Anya's eyes, no doubt imagining a future with babies that looked like Peter and Mary.

She glanced at her brother, whose cheeks were flushed and his lips stretched wide.

"I can't believe I hesitated at first," Peter whispered to her when he strode forward.

Hermione beamed and briefly held his hand. "Mum likes her already," she said. "Don't worry about unnecessary things anymore."

"And you?"

Her heart swelled with warmth at the fact he genuinely cared about her opinion. "Why should my opinion matter?" she asked, followed by a small laugh.

Peter softly snorted. "I'd rather my sister didn't torment the girl I'm going to like for the rest of our lives," he pointed out.

Hermione remembered the conversation she'd overheard between them, of Mary fiercely protesting that Peter wasn't the lesser Pettigrew, prompting her to smile fondly at him, and then at the girl who had undoubtedly already stolen their mother's heart.

"She is good to you, Peter," she finally said. "Any girl who thinks Peter Pettigrew is worthy of her time is instantly a good person in my mind."

Peter looked marvellously relieved by her words. "She chatters a lot," he warned.

"I'm best friends with Lily Evans," Hermione pointed out with a laugh. "Have you seen how her mouth runs?"

"Point taken," he concurred, mirroring her laugh.

**-ooo-**

Hermione excused herself when Peter and Mary got cozy on their couch as they watched an inane Christmas movie.

"Oh, Merry Christmas, Hermione!" Mary exclaimed, entangling herself from Peter's arms to catch up with the brunette.

"Merry Christmas to you too," she replied with a smile.

Mary then hastily rummaged inside her pocket and pulled out a neatly wrapped medium-sized gift, with a silver ribbon tied on top. "I'm sorry if it's terribly imposing, but I wanted to give you a gift today," she said as a sheepish smile bloomed on her face.

Hermione glanced at it in surprise. "Oh," she said, suddenly feeling flustered. "You shouldn't have. I – well – I didn't even buy you anything!"

"It doesn't matter," Mary said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Actually, I didn't plan on buying you a gift. But, while I was out shopping, I came across this book and instantly thought of you." Her eyes comically widened. "Oh, _silly_ me, of course I just had to ruin the surprise." She expelled a lovely laugh, her blue eyes glinting brightly. "Peter said you're a mean bookworm. So am I! I hope we can exchange books in the future? I _love_ this book with a reverence. I'm not sure if you've read it already, but if Peter wasn't exaggerating then, maybe _you_ already did, but oh well. More books to add to your collection, eh?"

The brunette stared at her with wide eyes. Peter wasn't kidding when he'd said she was a chatterbox. She glanced over Mary's shoulder and saw her brother watching them in amusement, his shoulders shaking with his suppressed chuckles.

"Thank you," Hermione said, gingerly taking the gift from Mary's hands. "This is very thoughtful of you, Mary. I – well – I'll scour my bookshelf and search for anything that might interest you." She looked hesitant. "You don't mind Muggle books, do you?"

"Oh, dear me, of course not!" Mary exclaimed. "That's a Muggle book you're holding. In fact, I think wizard fiction is very weird."

Hermione grinned. "Tell me about it."

"Anyway, I hope you enjoy that!" Mary said, surprising Hermione yet again when she enveloped her in a quick hug.

The brunette chuckled and patted her back, thanking her once again.

Hermione went to her room and left the couple alone, thinking of continuing some of her holiday homework now that she had nothing left to do.

She settled on her desk and softly smiled at the gift, before neatly tearing it open. _Anne of Green Gables_ stared right back at her and Hermione smiled in surprise as she honestly hadn't expected this book. She had read this before, of course, but she had read this as Hermione Granger. Hermione gingerly brushed her fingers across the title, fondly remembering the feelings that were evoked from reading the novel.

Hermione placed the book away, promising to read it after she was finished with her studies, and pulled out her school materials.

While she was engrossed on a particularly interesting Arithmancy question, her attention was suddenly diverted towards her bedroom window. She instantly recognised James's owl, Thunderbolt, merrily pecking the window with his beak.

Surprised, Hermione opened the window and let the handsome owl inside. He hooted happily when he landed on Hermione's desk, sticking out his leg.

Hermione knitted her eyebrows as she untied the small, silver box with a gold ribbon tied around it. She'd already received James's gift earlier this morning amidst the various gifts she had received from friends and family. He, of course, had sent her the ridiculously expensive school materials he'd bought during their last Hogsmeade date.

Thunderbolt affectionately nipped her finger, begging for treats. Hermione absentmindedly scooped a few from a jar on her table and let him eat on her palm.

"Merry Christmas," was her goodbye, as the owl happily hooted before opening his magnificent wings and flying out of the window.

Hermione gingerly unwrapped the box, frowning instantly upon recognising it as a jewellery box. She opened it, a gasp tearing from her lips, as she beheld a beautiful bracelet resting on a velvet cushion inside.

It was a round sapphire gemstone flanked with two, glinting diamonds strung through a silver band. Hermione highly suspected this bracelet had cost more than the school supplies James had bought for her.

There was a rolled parchment placed next to the bracelet. As Hermione unrolled it, her eyes instantly flew through the words.

_Hermione,_

_I hope you don't mind. I hope this isn't crossing a line. The first time I saw this, I instantly thought of your eyes._

_Merry Christmas,_

_James_

_P.S. Because seriously, who wants to get school supplies for Christmas?_

She rolled her eyes at his postscript and tenderly lifted the bracelet from its box. It was really beautiful and Hermione thought it was sweet James had thought about her eyes when he'd seen it.

Unable to stop a smile from stretching on her face, Hermione unclasped the bracelet and wore it around her wrist.

_Merlin_ , it looked even prettier when worn.

* * *

**January 6, 1978**

Anya gave them both a hug goodbye and shooed them towards the Hogwarts Express. "Promise to write!" she called, and waved her hand happily until Peter had ushered Hermione further inside.

"It's weird, isn't it?" Peter said, leading Hermione as he searched throughout the train for his friends, "how a new year has come and things are still ridiculously the same?"

Hermione glanced at Peter's back in surprise, unsure as to why he was suddenly saying such thoughts. However, Hermione couldn't help but slightly disagree with her brother. News about increasing attacks decorated the Daily Prophet and their television. Not even the forced censorship from the ministry could stop people from speculating – was Voldemort steadily gaining enough power to finally wage an ultimate war? It didn't help that Hermione had once caught her mother applying more spells to strengthen their wards at home. "Thieves have been rampant, don't you know?" was Anya's mere answer, but Hermione saw her mother's eyes and the fear in them.

She knew this year would be different, especially now that Regulus was a Death Eater and she wanted to voluntarily help him destroy the horcruxes. Gone were the quiet days of Hermione Pettigrew. With the war steadily gaining momentum, Hermione had to work double time in order to really bring Voldemort down and save the people she cared about in the present and future.

"There you are!"

A compartment door was suddenly slammed open, James's head peeking outside. Her mind instantly went blank, mouth going dry, as he fully sauntered out of the compartment he was staying in, to approach the Pettigrew siblings.

Merlin and Morgana, she realised she had missed him.

Very much.

"Wormtail, hi, all right?" he asked, good-naturedly thumping him on the back.

"Yes, actually," Peter said, a wide, goofy grin appearing on his face. "Mary did come over during Christmas and it was amazing! You should—" His words died down as his smile turned into an annoyed scowl. "Yeah, why am I even talking when it's obvious you're not even listening to me?"

"Hmm?" James distractedly asked, his hazel eyes trained intently on Hermione.

"Berk," Peter sighed, already dragging his trunk inside the compartment.

"Hi," Hermione shyly said, her cheeks warming in embarrassment.

James's smile grew as he took a few more steps, shrinking the distance between them. "Had a good holiday?" he asked, already reaching forward to hold Hermione's hand. His hand was still big and warm and fitted perfectly with her own.

"It was lovely," she said with a laugh. James grabbed her trunk and started pulling her towards the opened compartment. "Peter wasn't kidding when he said it was amazing. Mary was wonderful and my mother instantly liked her. She won't stop pestering Peter about when he'd ask for her hand in marriage." She gave his hand a tender squeeze and asked, "How was Italy?"

" _È stato bellissimo_ ," he answered with a handsome grin and a perfect accent. "I'd love to take you there someday, Hermione."

Her eyes widened at his claim, but James didn't seem to notice as he finally led her inside the compartment.

"Hey!" Sirius exclaimed with a petulant frown. "What happened to the rule 'no girlfriends allowed'?"

Hermione made a face at the word 'girlfriend' and was about to correct Sirius, but James snorted and pushed Peter to the side until the scowling blond was pressed against the window. "She's Peter's sister," James explained, directing Hermione to sit in the middle whilst he took her other side. "She's also your friend. Hermione's an exception."

Hermione examined the whole compartment with a scrunched nose. The floor was already littered with snack wrappers and Wizard's chess was open on the floor, the chess pieces merrily prancing around and waving their little swords in the air.

"Had a great Christmas, Hermione?" Remus asked with a kind smile.

Peter answered for her, already gushing about the events that happened with Mary at their home. Sirius was making various, ridiculous comments, earning him some punches from Peter and Remus, but it was obvious how they were genuinely happy for her brother. It was obvious how happy Peter was too.

Hermione distractedly glanced at James when she felt him suddenly squeeze her hand tightly. Glancing at him in question, she noted how his eyes were trained intently on her hand. Or, more appropriately, on the gleaming bracelet wrapped around her wrist.

"It's very beautiful," she said, feeling her cheeks reddening. James slowly lifted his eyes to meet hers, and Hermione felt her breath hitching with emotions. His eyes were the brownest she had ever seen, the green merely flecks around the outside, like a halo. The handsome smile on his face reached his eyes and Hermione found herself unable to stifle her own smile.

"It looks like your eyes," he finally said, giving her hand another fond squeeze. "Very beautiful."

A crumpled parchment suddenly zoomed in between them. "Oi, lovebirds," Sirius exclaimed. "No googly eyes in front of us."

Hermione flushed and glared at the disgusted wizard. James threw him a rude hand gesture, but his cheeks were also sprinkled with pink. "Shut up, Pads," he grumbled under his breath.

Conversation after that, was mostly the boys talking about their plans on how to graduate with a blast – _literally_. Hermione's eyes didn't return to their normal shape for the entirety of the conversation, after listening to Sirius and Peter pitching various ideas that bordered insane. Remus remained amused throughout, even suggesting things that he thought would help. James wasn't any different, loudly insisting how the timing of their plans should be after the graduation speech, or about how they would sneak everything inside Hogwarts without getting caught.

"You're _Head Boy_ ," she exclaimed, aghast. "How can you even support this preposterous idea?"

James boisterously laughed. "Hermione, relax," he said. "We're all going to do this _after_ Dumbledore has declared us as graduates. After that, we're students no more and they can't really expel us then, can they?"

Hermione groaned while the other three excitedly cheered, once again adding more suggestions that could embellish their already elaborate plan.

Despite the disbelief, Hermione found herself laughing at some jokes Peter would crack, or roll her eyes at Sirius when he spouted more ridiculous things.

This train ride was definitely the most eventful she'd ever had. Lily and Sev were nice companions, but they mostly talked about the holidays and future lessons. Hermione wondered if they were even worried she hadn't sat with them this time. But then, she realised she may have given them some private time together and they were most likely thanking the lucky stars above.

Speaking of her best friends, Hermione deduced that the couple was definitely going steady. Like what Peter had done, Lily invited Sev to her home for Christmas _and_ New Year. Lily reverently wrote to Hermione despite her parents' rule, wanting to recount detail-by-detail how her holidays had gone, most especially because Petunia also invited over Vernon, and she had been unwilling to be bested by her younger sister.

" _It was a bloody disaster_ ," Lily wrote. _"Petunia and Vernon were extra nasty, snarling untoward comments at Sev and his 'grubby, little clothes'. They were even more cruel than Potter and Black! You should have seen how I was trying my best to hold my tears and my tongue. But Sev was… Sev was brilliant and a sourpuss, calmly retorting thinly-veiled sarcastic quips that even made Vernon turn purple. I think the whole ordeal was ruined when Petunia caught Dad trying to hold in a laugh. Suffice to say, Petunia hates me more_ but _my parents love Sev, sourpuss and snarky comments and all."_

Hermione was infinitely happy for her friends. But, at the same time, worry bloomed in her heart. They only had six months to go before the Marauders and her best friends graduated, and yet, James and Lily weren't together. In fact, they didn't seem to like each other at all. Harry had told her before that his parents had gotten together when they were in seventh year, so it was understandable how worried Hermione had become.

Added to that, was the fact that Hermione seemed to like James more and more each day. Despite the distance, they constantly swapped letters over the holidays. James was arrogant but sweet, quipping things in his letters that made her blush in embarrassment. James was, _well_ , rather forward with his words, hiding behind the guise of his letter to tell Hermione how she truly made him feel. They weren't scandalous, of course, but Hermione was sure Peter would see red if he ever read one of James' letters for her.

So, with James and Lily dating other people right now, things weren't exactly in their proper place. Hermione often wondered if dating James meant betraying Harry, by stealing his right to be born in this world.

Panic was starting to rise up from her stomach again and Hermione tried to tug her hand away from James, but his grip was firm and warm and _safe_.

Hermione hated herself for not trying harder.

She blinked her eyes widely when James suddenly ducked his face closer to hers. "Knut for your thoughts?" he asked, even fishing the copper coin from his hand and extending it towards Hermione.

Sirius loudly snorted. "With that big brain of hers," he started, "her thoughts must cost at least two galleons, Prongsie-mate."

James laughed and slipped the knut inside his robe pocket, only to pull out two galleons and a piece of toffee. Hermione rolled her eyes but accepted the toffee. "Nothing exciting, honestly," she lied through her teeth. "I was just wondering how you will all fair in the upcoming NEWTs."

Predictably, they expelled numerous groans, prompting Hermione to smile.

"You only have at least five months before the exams," she continued despite their protests.

"Hermione," Peter whined, "we're adhering to your colour-coded schedule, blimey."

"We're really fond of you, Whiskers, which is why we keep you around," Sirius seriously said. "But please, can you bloody fucking spare us today? We're not even at Hogwarts yet!"

"Language," Hermione clucked, but Sirius merely pouted.

"Save your swottiness for Hogwarts," James sighed. "You'll have plenty of time to mother us once we get there."

Hermione was unable to keep in her laugh. "I'm just trying to remind you of the inevitable," she pointed out. "Don't look at me like that."

"I don't even know why I'm bothering to adhere to your rigorous scheduling," Remus said with a grimace. "I'm not even planning to become an Auror. The ministry would surely gloss over my name if I ever attempted."

"That's not true!" she blurted out almost immediately. Remus quirked an eyebrow, prompting her to blush. "Well, okay, we all know the world is fond of discriminating against people just because they're not like the rest, but that's bullshite. If I have my way, I'm going to rigorously write laws in the future and abolish any discriminatory practices for people like you, Remus, because it's so outdated and unfair."

Remus's golden eyes shone fondly at her words. "I'm not going to be surprised if you really did purse that, Hermione," he said. "But, really, I don't mind not becoming an Auror. It'd be too much of a hassle. Besides, I plan on applying for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post."

"But that position is cursed!" James exclaimed with a gasp. "We didn't know you wanted to do that."

The werewolf sheepishly smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. "I wasn't really planning on it," he confessed. "But Dumbledore mentioned in passing how Professor Sullen plans to retire after the school-year ends." He grinned at Hermione. "Perhaps, I'll be able to see you all-year round and will teach you Defence next year, Hermione."

James's eyes widened. " _Maybe_ , I should apply as a teacher too," he seriously declared. "If it meant I'll be able to see you all-year round, too."

"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione said as she threw a light glare at James. "Your schedule's already designed to focus on the knowledge and skills needed to be an Auror. It'd be a waste to give up what you really want to do for just one year teaching me."

"Aww, but Hermione, at least I could see you every day," he whined, but the brunette merely laughed and pushed him away.

"So, you do plan on accepting Dumbledore's offer?" Peter asked, shooting a disgusted look at his sister and best friend.

Remus shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "Well, Dumbledore already knows about my affliction," he said. "At least I'd still have the Shrieking Shack for my transformations. The only difference is that you lot won't be there."

"What the hell are you talking about, Moony?" Sirius asked, looking at Remus like he'd grown another head. "Of course we'll be there! Granted, we may have all graduated and chosen a different career path, but that doesn't mean we won't try to accompany you during the full moon."

Hermione noted how Remus's eyes shone a little brighter when Peter and James vigorously nodded their heads. "Auror training is ridiculously hard," he pointed out. "I'm sure the ministry will work you like a horse, especially with the environment nowadays."

"Oh, right! Speaking of the ministry," Hermione exclaimed. "I just remembered something I've been meaning to tell you." When they gave her identical looks of curiosity, she continued. "I think it's best if you register yourselves as Animagi." Their faces scrunched up in protest, but Hermione wasn't done. "Animagi are scarce, as we've always been taught, and the ministry will surely consider you more favourably as Aurors because of this skill. Besides, the ministry doesn't even consider anyone for the post of Auror if they have committed a crime. It is better if you adhere to the law."

"I know you're right, but that's bloody bothersome," Sirius muttered, crossing his arms against his chest. "All that bureaucratic shite."

"Better safe than sorry," she said with a deft shrug.

"Fine," James said with a sigh. "We can just lie and say we've managed to become one recently. You know, because technically it was illegal."

Hermione nodded her head to concur.

**-ooo-**

Hermione walked out of the Great Hall after bidding goodbye to Lily and Sev. James apologised to her profusely, telling her he had some Head Boy crap he needed to do and had to go to Dumbledore and therefore couldn't escort her back to Ravenclaw Tower.

"It's fine, James," Hermione said with a laugh. "I'll see you tomorrow."

James looked at her with stars in his eyes and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "Goodnight, Hermione," he said. He grabbed her hand once more and stared at the bracelet on her wrist. A ridiculous smile stretched widely on his face as he bid her another goodbye and walked away.

Hermione made a brief stop at the library to borrow a few books she had been meaning to read for advance studying. Madame Pince had given her a surprised look, obviously unused to having students in the library on the first day back after the Christmas holidays.

She bid the strict librarian goodnight and was surprised when Madame Pince gave her a small smile in return. She knew the librarian was wary of her and her friends because they were admittedly always quite rowdy when inside. Hermione hoped the smile meant the librarian liked her more.

Hermione was journeying back to Ravenclaw Tower, the corridors now scarce of students, when she was suddenly pulled into an alcove. A scream sat on the tip of her tongue, but her wand hand was quicker. The brunette blindly poked her wand tip into the person's side.

"If you don't release me," she darkly hissed, her grip on her wand tightening, "I'm going to hex you."

A low chuckle washed over the exposed flesh of her neck, creating goosebumps. "Blimey, Pettigrew, it's just me."

Hermione scowled and twirled around, her wand now pressed threateningly under Regulus' chin. "You shouldn't sneak up on people like that!" she whispered shrilly.

Brief fear crossed his silver eyes as he slowly raised his hands to gesture surrender. "Apologies," he murmured.

Hermione gave him a glare before slowly lowering her wand. "What do you want?" she asked. "What's the matter? Why did you suddenly pull me into a dark alcove?"

Regulus looked at her in mild amusement. "I was trying to find the time to corner you, but Potter's been joined to your hip the whole time," he pointed out. "So, the rumours are really true, then? You're really dating James Potter?"

"None of your business," she said, hoping that the darkness was enough to cover the redness on her cheeks.

"And he's over Lily Evans?" he persisted.

"None of your _bloody_ business," she continued with a sigh. "What do you really want, Regulus? It's been a rather tiring day and we have classes at eight in the morning tomorrow. I'd like to retire to my bed as soon as possible."

The amused smile on his face melted into a firm, hard line. "I've done a lot of thinking - like what you said to do last year," he said. "And I've made up my mind. I'm still in, if you are."

Hermione's eyes widened, hope forming in her heart. "Are you really sure, Regulus?" she asked. "This isn't some test you can pass if you study hard enough. This isn't some Quidditch game you can win if you catch the Golden Snitch. This is _war_ , and in war you have to accept the fact that lives may be sacrificed in the end."

Regulus had an indecipherable look in his eyes. "Will you do it then?" he softly asked. "Sacrifice yourself for the people you care about?"

She thought of Anya and Peter, of Remus and Sirius and Lily and Sev. She thought of Regulus too, and how desperate he was of righting his wrongs. She thought of James with hazel eyes and a golden smile, managing to make her heart flutter even with a single glance. She thought of Ron, with eyes as blue as the deepest ocean, staring lifelessly heavenward. And she thought of Harry, who only wanted to be happy in this world.

"If it's the only way, I will," she firmly whispered, her words reverberating around the stony walls of the small alcove.

Desperation appeared in Regulus' eyes, his hold on Hermione's arm tightening. "Then I'll help you," he resolutely said. "I hope we will survive through all of this. I just want – I just want the Dark Lord—" He took a sharp intake of breath as his silver eyes turned steely with determination. "I just want _Voldemort_ to die."

The way he said his name, with disgust and exhaustion and _fear_ , made Hermione's eyes water with overwhelming emotions.

"Me too," she whispered. "Me too, Regulus."

* * *

**January 28, 1978**

Hermione was awakened on Saturday morning by incessant tapping on her window.

She blearily glanced at her alarm clock, annoyed to see that it was still five in the morning. It was Saturday after all, and although Hermione woke up earlier than her roommates, she still had two more hours to go before her supposed alarm.

The Ravenclaw groggily stood up from her bed and briefly glanced at her roommates, noting that they were all still asleep. Hermione scowled in envy as she opened the window, letting a handsome, sooty owl swoop inside and land on her bedside table. He howled in annoyance, perhaps reprimanding Hermione for making him wait outside in the cold, before sticking out his leg.

Hermione stared at the owl with mild amusement, already guessing that he most likely belonged to a haughty, Pureblood wizard. She untied the parchment from his leg. The owl took flight even before being given treats, and Hermione hastily closed the window to protect herself from the cold.

She unrolled the parchment and smiled, recognising Regulus's handwriting.

_Pettigrew,_

_Who wakes up at seven am on a Sunday? But fine, I'll meet you on the seventh floor. Don't be late._

_R.A.B._

Hermione snorted at the letter, wondering how Regulus could complain about waking up early on a weekend, when he'd practically done the same thing today. Her eyes slowly latched onto his signature, her smile faltering. She gingerly brushed the initials of his name, fondly remembering the letter he'd penned to Voldemort in the future, telling him he'd discovered his secrets and vowed to take him down.

Shaking such thoughts away, Hermione walked towards her small desk and grabbed spare parchment and her turkey quill. She penned her reply, all the while thinking how she could slip this short note to Regulus without his Slytherin cronies noticing.

After writing the letter, Hermione slipped back into her bed and closed her eyes once more, hoping to catch a few more winks before her alarm went off.

**-ooo-**

Hermione smiled warmly when the Marauders sauntered inside the Great Hall and journeyed towards the Ravenclaw table. James and Peter, as usual, flanked her sides whilst Remus and Sirius sat across from her.

With Hermione's new relationship with James, the Head Boy had announced to his friends that he'd like to spend his meals with his lady love. Hermione rolled her eyes at his antics, but James insisted. Since the Marauders were basically joined at the hip, it didn't surprise Hermione when the other three also joined James on the Ravenclaw table.

The new arrangements of course, changed Lily and Sev's schedule of having meals with their best friend. During breakfast, Hermione found herself usually alone. She always woke up earlier than her friends so she really didn't mind. Lily also often woke up early, but she spent her breakfast chattering away with her Gryffindor friends, Mary and Marlene. During lunch time, Lily and Sev would join her on the Ravenclaw table, and Hermione would watch with thinly-veiled amusement - mixed with slight disgust - how sickeningly adorable the two were being. Hence, James had no choice but to agree to eat with her at dinnertimes, his other friends clambering behind him.

"All right, Hermione?" the bespectacled wizard asked, sliding down on the bench beside her. Like clockwork, his hand gripped hers and gave it a tiny squeeze.

"Yeah," she said, smiling at her brother and the other two. "How was the career orientation?"

Sirius made a face and started piling food on his plate. "Waste of two hours," he murmured. Then, to Remus, he asked, "Hey, do you think I could be a Dragon Tamer?"

Remus snorted. "McGonagall said that 8 in 10 Dragon Tamers had to shave their heads because hair can be a fire hazard. I'm sure you won't let anyone touch your hair just to work, Pads."

"Too true," Sirius said with a loud guffaw, fondly cradling his hair like it was Merlin's gift to humanity.

"I can't believe so many students want to become Aurors," Peter moaned, despondently tearing his bread into pieces on his plate. "How am I to compete against them?"

"You heard what McGonagall said," James pointed out with a frown. "Things today are… _tense_ , what with the increase in attacks and the threat of Voldemort growing stronger each day. We're a bunch of _Gryffindors_ , Peter. Of course we'd want to fight."

"And recklessly get yourself killed, I'm sure," Hermione snapped, scowling darkly at her plate.

James silently squeezed her hand once more, smiling handsomely at the brunette. "Nobody's going to get killed, Whiskers," he assured. "Nobody can easily kill us."

Except there was _somebody_ , and that somebody had mercilessly killed him with a well-aimed _Avada Kedavra_. Hermione tried to shake the image of a dead James Potter, hazel eyes empty and dull, just to keep her emotions at bay. It was _too_ early to worry about things like that. She still had the task of procuring all of Voldemort's scattered horcruxes and destroying them, just to make the bastard mortal once more.

"I think I need a break from all these NEWTs and this career crap," said Sirius with an exhausted groan. "Fancy a stroll tonight, lads?"

Hermione mentally projected her calendar and frowned. "The full moon has already passed," she slowly pointed out under her breath.

"We sometimes like to venture outside, even if Moony's not going to, you know," James said. "Just to discover more secret passages to add to the map. Speaking of which, _when_ are you going to return the Marauder's Map?"

"I thought you said it's done?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow and opting to ignore his question.

"There's always room for improvement," he replied with chuckle. "So, fancy a stroll tonight, Whiskers?"

Hermione would have loved to transform into her Animagus and trailed behind the Marauders, but she had an early appointment with Regulus tomorrow. She didn't need to think thoroughly to decide which one was priority. "Sorry," she finally said with an apologetic smile. "I think I'll pass this time."

"Why?" Peter asked with a frown. "Don't tell me you're going to stay up late to study tonight, Hermione."

"So what if I am?" she petulantly asked, not bothering to dispel his accusations. Sometimes being a swot actually had its merits.

"You're really no fun sometimes," Sirius said with a sigh. "Come on, Hermione. We'll show you the different secret passages we've discovered through the years."

Hermione mentally thought those passages might not be so secret for her already, after years and years of trailing behind Harry Potter. "I still think I'll pass," she stated matter-of-factly. Her eyes landed on Remus and frowned. "What do _you_ do on nights when you don't have to, you know?"

Remus shrugged and grinned roguishly at his friends. "Pretend I'm walking my pet dog and stag for the night," he joked. "I let Wormtail ride on my shoulders. It gives him the illusion he's taller than Prongs."

"Very funny, Moony," Peter grumbled under his breath, his cheeks flushing at the joke. Hermione apologetically smiled at her brother, knowing that he was still tetchy about his puny Animagus form compared to his other friends.

"It'll be fun. Promise," James said, peering at her with his hopeful, hazel eyes. "We need someone who'll get us out of trouble."

Hermione snorted. " _Please_ , I know you'd just tune me out if I continued to nag you about your idiotic shenanigans," she deadpanned.

James innocently grinned. "When did we ever tune you out, Hermione? _Honestly_?" he asked amidst the chuckles his other friends were trying to suppress.

The Ravenclaw sighed and gave them a withering glare. "Just stay out of trouble," she warned. "If you get expelled before you even take your NEWTs, all of my efforts to get you diligently studying would have gone to waste."

* * *

**January 29, 1978**

Hermione woke up at five in the morning, much to her disgruntlement. She blamed her adrenaline for waking her up before her alarm, knowing full well what this day meant for her. She tried to close her eyes and catch a few more winks, but her body was uncooperative. Knowing it was futile, Hermione hauled herself out of her bed and started to get ready.

She silently shook her head at the small mess her roommates had made. It was mighty amusing how they had planned a pseudo girl's night out yesterday, with Alex displaying various nail polishes she had brought from home. Hermione had wanted to politely excuse herself, wanting to sleep early to get ready for the next day, but her roommates had cajoled her into joining. Hermione had relented, having no choice but to sit on the floor and let Dorothy paint her nails in pretty midnight blue and bronze colours.

Hermione eyed her newly painted nails and smiled in amusement. She must admit, they were actually pretty. Besides, her Ravenclaw friends had been a nice distraction for her last night. When they'd finally let Hermione slip away to her bed, she'd been so knackered that sleep instantly claimed her.

Since it was still terribly cold out, Hermione donned a worn dark blue, thick sweater that matched her bracelet. She wore a button-down denim skirt and some tights to protect her legs from the cold.

She brandished out her wand and magicked the mess away, most of the belongings landing on Alex's equally messy bedside table. Hermione then quietly left their room and journeyed out of the Ravenclaw Common Room.

The corridors, as predicted, were devoid of students. Even most of the portraits were still dozing off in their frames.

Hogwarts was serene that day and Hermione took that moment to stop in her tracks and gaze appreciatively at the worn, stone walls and high ceilings of the castle she fondly called home.

When she arrived at the seventh floor, Hermione was surprised to see that Regulus was already there.

"It's not even seven!" was her greeting, quickening her footsteps to reach the Slytherin.

He merely quirked an eyebrow. "Well, you're here too," he stated matter-of-factly. "Besides, I couldn't sleep last night."

Hermione noted the dark bags under his tired, silver eyes, but it was obvious how he had been anticipating this day too. Regulus was practically humming with a nervous energy she'd never felt from him before. He constantly glanced around, as if expecting that someone would finally jump out and kill him for betraying the Dark Lord.

The brunette smiled sadly at the Slytherin, knowing this would be his life from now on until they'd finally killed Voldemort.

"Regulus," she coolly greeted. "Are you all—"

"No time for pleasantries," he cut her off. "Why are _we_ here?" He wildly gestured at the empty corridor and eyed the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy with disdain.

Hermione rolled her eyes at his melodrama. No doubt a Black trait, remembering all the times Sirius dramatically pointed out things.

"Because the horcrux is here," she said in a low voice.

"Where?" Regulus insisted, his eyes now narrowing suspiciously. "Is this a trap, Pettigrew? Luring me somewhere abandoned just to kill me and get away with murder?"

The brunette snorted. "If you continue being annoying, I just might do that," she offhandedly threatened. Regulus merely stared at her with thinly-veiled amusement in his eyes.

Hermione then turned towards the bare stone wall opposite the tapestry, her hand climbing up to brush it. It had been ages since she'd been here. She clearly remembered how the whole room had been destroyed by Crabbe's blazing _Fiendfyre_ , also costing him his life.

"Where's the horcrux?" Regulus insisted once more.

" _Here_ ," Hermione plainly said. "Behind this wall."

The Slytherin's eyes roamed across the huge stretch of bare wall as a frown appeared on his face. "There is no door," he said.

"There is," she replied. "If you know where to look."

Hermione closed her eyes and ignored Regulus's dubious look. _'We need a place to look for Ravenclaw's Diadem,'_ she chanted inside her mind as she walked in front of the wall. She did it twice more and before she could open her eyes, she knew it had worked when Regulus released a soft yelp of surprise.

"Told you there's a door," she said with a smirk as her eyes snapped open and saw how his eyes had almost bulged out of their sockets.

"How did you—" The words died down from his lips as he looked at Hermione like he'd never seen her before. "Does anyone know about this place?"

The brunette shrugged. "Maybe," she said. "I don't doubt some desperate students might have stumbled upon this room, even though they don't really know the magic it entails."

"Your Gryffindor friends?" he continued.

Hermione wore a secretive smile. She admittedly had been curious as to whether the Marauders had discovered the Room of Requirement during this time. Apparently, after skimming through the Map she still possessed, she found out that nothing had changed and they still hadn't discovered this elusive room. It gave Hermione a sense of satisfaction that she knew something _secret_ they didn't.

"Merlin, no wonder Potter likes you so much," he murmured under his breath as he opened the door and tentatively peeked inside. Hermione's blush was left unnoticed by Regulus, who by now was busy ogling the towering knick knacks the room boasted. "What the fuck?"

Hermione pushed him further inside so she could step in and had another wave of déjà vu. Her skin prickled at the memory of the licking Fiendfyre and she half-expected that a blazing inferno would appear and swallow them whole. But the room stayed fire-free and safe, save from the precarious pieces of furniture stacked high up to the ceiling of the whole room.

It looked the same the last time she'd been here. Hermione hoped the diadem was still where they'd last seen it, buried under decades of grime and dust.

"What are we looking for again?" Regulus asked, snapping out of his surprised stupor to look at the silent witch.

"Ravenclaw's Diadem," she said. "Are you aware what it looks like?"

The Slytherin shrugged. "I remember from History of Magic that Binns said it had three oblong sapphires and an inscription of Ravenclaw's quote. Something about wit…"

"'Wit beyond measure is a man's greatest treasure'," Hermione absentmindedly murmured, her fingers already brushing over tattered books and worn couches, and of suspicious-looking sweaters and dust-filled blankets, all neglected and collecting century-old dust. Some things looked relatively new, untouched by time and dust, and some looked like they had been in this room since the foundation of the school. "We should split up."

Regulus grew wary at her suggestion, prompting her to continue. "This will make the search easier," she said. "Just as long as you don't touch anything suspicious, you'll live, Regulus."

"That isn't exactly helpful, Pettigrew," he murmured darkly under his breath.

Hermione expelled a soft laugh. "This room is relatively harmless," she assured. "Most things here are unintentionally lost by unsuspecting students."

"Except there's a _horcrux_ in this bloody place."

Her smile widened in amusement. "Yes, well, Voldemort intended to keep it here because the bastard thought he was the _only_ one who could purposively search for this place." When Regulus still looked doubtful with her suggestion, Hermione sighed. "Just look for a diadem with sapphires and the inscription. It's easy to notice. I _promise_. I think it's worn by an ugly bust, but maybe it's different in this timeline."

Regulus's eyebrows slowly knitted together. "What do you mean 'in this timeline'?" he asked, looking at her with more suspicion.

"Never mind that," she said a tad too quickly. "Just don't touch it if you see it. Horcruxes are really _evil_ and they can manipulate you."

"That's _not_ very helpful either," he ground out once more.

Hermione's hand itched, terribly tempted to slap her palm against her forehead. "Merlin, just don't touch it and you'll live, Regulus," she gasped exasperatedly. "Whoever finds the horcrux first will call the other over, especially if it's you. I need to confirm if it's the real diadem or not."

Regulus glowered, still hesitant at her suggestion, until he finally sighed. " _Fine_ ," he said. "If I die today, I'll haunt you for the rest of your life."

"What happened with 'I'm willing to sacrifice my life for this cause'?" Hermione teased, prompting Regulus to snarl at her in annoyance and proceed to scour the east side of the room.

The brunette chuckled and started at the opposite side, training her eyes to quickly scan the numerous piles of junk and treasures in search of the familiar diadem.

Hermione spied broken broomsticks and new dragonhide gloves, some ridiculous wigs and gaudy baubles, and tomes so _old_ she wondered if they were overdue books from the library. The different knickknacks piqued her curiosity, as she tried to imagine their story and how they had lost themselves in this room forevermore.

The brunette recognised the towering junk which she and Ron had climbed up in order to avoid the unforgiving fire of Crabbe's Fiendfyre. It still looked as precarious as ever, and she remembered how as Hermione Granger, she had been constantly thinking that if she let go or missed a step, she'd plummet down to her death. Hermione shivered at the memory and firmly told herself that she would never let that happen ever again.

Hermione suddenly paused as a tall cabinet, covered by a moth-eaten blanket, greeted her eyes. Her heart stuttered at the sight, instantly recognising it as the Vanishing Cabinet Draco Malfoy had fixed during their sixth year.

With shaky hands, Hermione pulled the cloth down, disturbing a flurry of dust that prompted her to release a mighty sneeze.

Her eyes watered at the sight of the unimposing wooden cabinet, her right hand tentatively touching its cool wood. This was the cabinet that had let the Death Eaters inside, subsequently reigning terror over the whole school and ultimately leading to Dumbledore's death. Hermione had always wondered, if this cabinet had never been discovered or had never existed, there would have been any way for the Death Eaters to infiltrate Hogwarts. She figured, probably not.

"I FOUND THE DIADEM!"

She flinched at Regulus's _Sonorus-ed_ voice and reluctantly pulled away from the cabinet.

Hastily wiping her tears away, Hermione followed the direction of Regulus's voice and found him staring wide-eyed at an ugly bust with a tarnished diadem sitting on top of its head.

Despite the rust and dust, the sapphire still proudly gleamed under the bright light of the Room of Requirement. Hermione slowly pulled out her wand and pointed it at the diadem. " _Wingardium Leviosa_ ," she whispered. As expected, the diadem did not even budge, the horcrux protecting it from any simple spell.

"That's it, isn't it?" Regulus asked, his voice strangely hollow and strained.

The brunette grabbed a small, discarded cloth and slowly approached the diadem. Her heart thudded loudly inside her ribcage, her blood rushing to her ears. The diadem twinkled menacingly, mocking her of the future she had lost and the future she wanted to desperately save.

With the cloth's protection, Hermione lifted the diadem from the bust's head and looked at the reverse side. Ravenclaw's famous quote was inscribed there, suspiciously spared from rust. "It is," she thickly said, swallowing down her sudden trepidation. "It's the horcrux."

"You feel it too, don't you?" he breathlessly whispered, eyeing the diadem with an intense gaze. "The dark magic it emits."

Hermione slowly nodded her head and placed the diadem back onto the bust. She transfigured a red, unpaired slipper into a box that could fit the diadem inside. She then gingerly placed the diadem inside and locked it with vehemence, numerous warding charms spilling out from her lips until she was satisfied it was protected enough.

When she looked back at Regulus, he was staring at her strangely. "What?" she asked, grasping onto the box.

"Where'd you learn all those warding spells?" he curiously asked. "Most of them I haven't even heard of."

Hermione bit her tongue, unwilling to divulge that, after being on the run from Voldemort and his Death Eaters for years, learning as many warding spells as possible was important. "Never mind that," she said once more. Regulus's face crumpled in frustration, undoubtedly annoyed by all of his unanswered questions. Hermione gave him an apologetic smile and a silent promise that he'd know one day. Just not right now.

"Well then," he said, "we finally got the diadem. What's next?"

Hermione uncertainly glanced at the box. "I – well – I still need to figure it out," she said.

"Can't we destroy it?" he asked, warily glancing at the box too.

"It's not that simple," she said with a sigh. "You saw how it didn't even budge with a simple _Wingardium Leviosa_. Horcruxes are impenetrable to simple spells. You have to use other means."

"Such as?"

"Fiendfyre," she simply said. "And basilisk venom, to name a few." Her eyes darkened, remembering the suffocating despair she had felt upon discovering that Harry Potter was a horcrux too. "The Killing Curse, too, apparently."

"You can make a horcrux out of another living thing?" he gasped. "Much less a person?"

Hermione wryly smiled. "It came as a shocker too, trust me," she said, her heart painfully clenching at the thought of Harry Potter once more. Sixteen years had passed since she had last seen her best friend, but she still felt the grief - raw and palpable. Now that she had finally found the first horcrux, her grief over Harry Potter's death seemed much more tangible.

"Fiendfyre is a complicated spell," Regulus pointed out, lips curling in annoyance. "Only a well-trained wizard or witch can control it."

She nodded her head, thinking about Crabbe and his untimely death.

"Basilisk venom, on the other hand…" He sighed and ruffled his hair. "That's very rare, seeing as how basilisks themselves are impossible to find. I doubt I'd be able to haggle some on the black market without spending such a fortune that even my parents would become suspicious."

"Well, there's a basilisk under this school," she distractedly said, failing to see the look of horror that appeared on Regulus's face. "It'd be unwise if only the two of us went down and faced the beast. It's class _XXXXX_ after all. We need someone trained to handle creatures with that danger level to confront the basilisk instead."

"I'm sorry," Regulus calmly drawled, "but do you mean there is a _fucking basilisk_ in this _fucking school_?"

Hermione knitted her eyebrows in confusion, uncertain as to why Regulus was looking at her with such a wild look in his silver eyes. But then, she realised that said basilisk didn't even make an appearance until 1992. Of course he'd be horrified at the thought.

"It's dormant right now, if it helps," she sheepishly said, noting how a vein popped at his temple. "Just as long as nobody opens the Chamber of Secrets, then we're all good."

" _I'm sorry_ ," Regulus drawled once more, his voice strangely high pitched, "but do you mean the _fucking Chamber of Secrets_ is _fucking real_?"

Hermione this time didn't stop her hand from slapping her forehead. "Damn it," she whispered under her breath. She didn't want to reveal too much, especially because she still had no clear plan on how to go about this 'destroying horcruxes' thing.

"Why the hell do you know all this?" he snapped. "Are you sure you're not a _Seer_?"

The brunette shook her head. "I'm really not," she answered.

"Then how—"

"Not yet, Regulus," she said with a pointed glare. "I'll tell you soon enough. I promise." When Regulus glowered, she reiterated, " _I_ _promise_."

The Slytherin glared at her for a few more seconds before he shifted his eyes towards the ground and deflated. "Fine," he mumbled. He composed himself by breathing in deeply before lifting his head once more, this time marginally calmer. "What will we do with the diadem?"

"I'm going to keep it in my trunk," she explained. "I know it's not the wisest decision, but it's the _safest_. I can't let you keep it because your Slytherin friends might find it."

"I'm not worried about those buffoons," he insisted. "I'm worried about _you_."

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise, but Regulus ignored it. "You've felt the dark magic from it and I don't doubt that it'd try to tempt you to wear it," he said. "Dark artifacts like that manipulate anyone who's near. Trust me, I've been around enough of them too many times to know."

She smiled at his concern. "I know that too," she said, thoughts of Slytherin's locket weighing heavily down on her neck creeping into her mind. "Which is why I've warded it with the most complicated spells I know. Breaking said wards requires too much concentration - enough to distract you from dark magic temptation."

He still looked highly doubtful, but didn't comment on it further. Instead he said, "I think it's best if we leave now."

Hermione nodded her head to concur, tightly clutching onto the box which held the diadem.

Before they had completely walked out of the Room of Requirement, Hermione paused, a sudden idea forming in her mind.

"What's the matter?" Regulus asked, but Hermione was already stomping in a new direction.

She was once again standing in front of the Vanishing Cabinet when Regulus caught up with her. Wordlessly, Hermione pulled out her wand and tightly clutched it in her hand.

Without blinking an eye, she whispered " _Incendio_." Fire licked out of her wand and reached the cabinet, and she watched with satisfaction as the fire mercilessly swallowed the wood until there was a blazing inferno.

"Are you _mad_?" Regulus bellowed. "Why the hell did you do that?" He immediately shot protective spells around the burning cabinet to stop the fire from spreading.

Hermione hardened her gaze, her eyes not straying from the blazing Vanishing Cabinet. "To save this school," she steadfastly said, memories of a smirky blond she used to hate so much, with a gaunt face and dark bags under his eyes, flashing before her eyes. "To save a boy."

**-ooo-**

Hermione warily eyed the box placed on top of her bed.

It was a relief that the dark magic was unfelt underneath all the warding spells she had placed, but the mere fact that she knew a horcrux was lying beside her bed made her uneasy.

She knew that the Great Hall was already filled with hungry students merrily eating their lunch. Lily and Sev were most likely already waiting for her, but Hermione couldn't bring herself to leave. She wasn't hungry, after all. Her stomach churned uncomfortably and she had this inkling she'd empty her stomach even before she had finished her meal.

This was really it. She'd really started the horcrux hunt, with Regulus Black of all people, and Hermione started questioning her choices again. With the Ravenclaw Diadem in her possession, it was already the point of no return. Especially now that Regulus was on board, set to search for all of Voldemort's present horcruxes and destroy them once and for all - if it meant he'd be able to help in bringing the vile monster down. Especially _now_ that Hermione had come to love everything this world had offered to her and looking away meant betraying all the people she cared about.

Her heart clenched at the thought of Harry, of how he'd be staring at her with such disappointment in his eyes. Her choices right now meant she'd go back to where Hermione Granger had always been – at the centre of the war, fighting tooth and nail to keep herself alive and the people she loved. It was a journey full of turmoil and pain and Hermione Pettigrew wasn't so sure if she wanted to put herself in that position once more.

Her grip on the box tightened as tears blurred her vision. "I'll do this for you, Harry," she whispered brokenly into the air. Everything Hermione Granger had done in the past had been for Harry Potter after all. It was all she had ever known.

Swiping her tears away, Hermione opened her trunk and accessed the secret compartment. She gently laid the imprisoned horcrux inside and threw another litany of protective, warding spells on her trunk.

As she closed her trunk, Hermione grew more resolute. Harry wanted her to be happy in this life and she knew that the only way to achieve that was to finally bring Voldemort down. She'd gladly go through all the hardships once more if it meant her friends would be safe.

If it meant _Harry_ would be safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: this chapter is originally split into two, but I've decided to merge it in the end. Things had been really stressful for me since I found out we'll be back in the hospital in September. Just so you know, it's bloody frustrating for medical interns like us because technically, we're not employees yet so we won't be having the same benefits as a resident. Oh, and yeah, did I forget to say our covid cases are continuously rising every day? So yeah, sorry I'm just ranting a bit ahahah. This is honestly the only thing that makes me happy right now.
> 
> So anyway, I know y'all like Regulus right now, with so many unanswered questions. But like what Hermione said, you will all know soon enough. Just not right now. :))) 
> 
> This chapter is so long! Sorry about that. Next chapter will be quite short though, but not exactly uneventful… hehe
> 
> See you again tomorrow!
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes)!


	28. chapter twenty-seven

* * *

**xxvii.**

_**something always brings me back to you** _

(Gravity by Sara Bareilles)

* * *

**March 11, 1978**

"Have you ever thought about dating James Potter?"

Lily's eyes widened as they landed on Hermione. "Is that a trick question?" she deliberately asked, her eyebrows knitting together at the middle. "I mean, _you_ are dating James Potter now, so will my answer really matter?"

Hermione bristled on the grass, fully turning her body to look at Lily. "Just answer my question, Lils," she ground out with a frown.

"Merlin, what's gotten into you?" the redhead murmured, scanning the grounds, possibly in search of an escape. Hermione patiently waited as the Head Girl's cheeks reddened in embarrassment. Her fidgety actions already spoke volumes of what Lily's answer might have been in response to her question, and Hermione's heart jumped. Perhaps, there was still a chance for James and Lily to get together.

She ignored how loudly her heart was beating or how shaky she had become. She ignored the brief image of James's mesmerising, hazel eyes or how his warm hand felt whilst holding hers. Ever since she'd gotten Ravenclaw's Diadem, her desire to protect Harry at all costs, blazed like the burning fire she'd directed at the Vanishing Cabinet. Regulus hadn't contacted her since that day, as Hermione had reassured him, she'd still think of a plan on how to procure the next horcruxes. Hence, with that task pushed to the back of her mind, Hermione was confronted with another obstacle – get Lily and James together.

Never mind what she felt about that, of course.

Lily finally sighed and closed her textbook, setting it aside on the grass beside her. She didn't meet Hermione's eyes but instead stared at the Giant Squid, which was performing various strokes across the Black Lake.

"Well," she slowly started, "I did think of cracking last year. I told you he's tolerable now. In fact, lately, he's _more_ than tolerable and you and I both know why that is." Lily's green eyes pierced her meaningfully and Hermione looked away, her cheeks flushing red.

"And, you know, it's undeniable he's handsome," Lily continued with a low voice, her face scrunched up as if pained to even say the words escaping from her lips. "Sometimes, I admit, my eyes do stray in his direction when I know he isn't looking, just to admire how square his jaw is or… or how ridiculously _amazing_ the glasses make him look." Lily chuckled and shook her head. "I know I insulted him once about always running his hand through his hair to make him look freshly windswept after a broomstick ride, but _Merlin_ , James Potter can really pull off the 'stylishly dishevelled look', don't you think?"

She was expectantly looking at Hermione for her answer, but the brunette only nodded once, not trusting herself to speak.

"And, like what you told me, I've actually managed to see the other sides of James Potter." Lily stretched her legs in front of her and smiled. "It disconcerted me a bit because he'd always been the pompous toerag for me. But Potter does really have a sweet, kind side to him. A diligent side even. A brilliant side – you should have seen him during Transfiguration and Charms, Hermione. He's – well – he's these different kinds of people all at once and it made me wonder why he never really showed those sides to me before."

Hermione snorted and copied Lily's position. "Perhaps because he has a bloody reputation to uphold," she joked with a small grin. "You know, 'arrogant sod with an ego the size of the sun and stylishly dishevelled hair'. His fangirls would not have been able to take it if James wasn't all that after all."

"But you see," Lily continued, "he shows all of these sides when he's with _you_." Hermione glanced at Lily in surprise, prompting the older witch's smile to widen. "I think it's really sweet, how he truly treats you, Hermione. Potter was never like that to me and I doubt he'd even be like that to me if we ever did get together – _Merlin forbid_."

Lily continued to blink unseeingly at the Black Lake, oblivious to the myriad of emotions crossing over Hermione's face. "So, in summary, _yes_ I did think of trying to date James Potter before," she continued, followed by a disbelieving laugh. "But that curiosity fizzled, now that I have my own sourpuss whom I love more than life itself."

"Love?" the brunette breathed out in surprise.

The redhead's cheeks turned a lovely shade of red upon realising her slip-up. "It's inevitable, Hermione," she pointed out with a shy grin. "We've been friends for _years_ , even longer than our friendship with you. I know people always thought I'd stop becoming friends with him or that Sev would choose his Housemates and their stupid beliefs over me, but I seriously cannot understand that. Maybe like how James Potter shows himself to you, I'm the only one who has seen all the sides of Severus Snape. And let me tell you, Hermione; I love them all – the good, the bad, and the sourpuss."

Hermione stared at Lily and noticed how there was a lovely smile on her face, her green eyes shining extra brighter today. The softness of her expression was enough to clench Hermione's heart tightly, forcing her to look away.

She had forgotten this was Lily Evans after all, the woman who was famously known for her undying love for her son. If it weren't for Lily's love, then Harry wouldn't have been saved at all.

When Lily Evans loved, she loved hard and fierce.

"I wasn't really meaning to say this today," Lily continued, oblivious to the inner turmoil in Hermione. "Sev insisted we should wait to tell you until after NEWTs, but with your ridiculous questions, maybe you need some reassurance that I will never, _ever_ date James Potter."

Hermione quizzically looked back at Lily, but the redhead still held her gaze towards the horizon.

"Sev asked me to move in with him at Spinner's End after graduation," she revealed. "I've told my parents already and they instantly agreed. I did tell you they love Sev, so they knew he'd take care of me properly." Lily chuckled and stretched her arms heavenward, luxuriously bending on her side until she heard a satisfying crick. "I can't wait to tear his whole house down and make it _liveable_."

The brunette thickly swallowed. "You seem awfully set to spend your future with Sev," Hermione whispered.

Lily's green eyes glinted under the bright sky, eyes that belonged to her best friend – present and future. "I always knew I'd be stuck with him until the end of time," Lily confessed with a brilliant smile. "And, to tell you the truth, I can't bloody wait."

* * *

**March 14, 1978**

James Potter was distracting.

_Very_ distracting to the point that Hermione couldn't properly study her Arithmancy textbook. The words and numbers all seemed garbled in her eyes, stubbornly refusing to stay put so that she could devour the new information she needed for her essay.

Hermione glowered darkly at the oblivious seventh year, whose head was buried behind a Herbology textbook. His glasses were precariously perched on the tip of his nose, and James kept on distractedly pushing them up, only for his glasses to slip down once more.

The brunette had found out recently that she liked to look at James the most when he was _studying_. There was something about the way his forehead creased in concentration, or how he'd mercilessly nibble his bottom lip in deep thought that captivated Hermione's attention. The green in his hazel eyes was always most prominent when he was deeply in thought like this. Sometimes, James would silently mouth words repeatedly until he was satisfied he'd put the words into his memory.

He was so handsome when he was so diligent and Hermione wished, at times like this, that her friends were at least there to keep her sanity in check. At least Peter would often crack a joke that would make her smile, Sirius would come up with another ridiculous prank, and Remus would ask her questions and challenge her brain. Even Lily and Sev could keep her from getting distracted, always forcing her to take a break or goading her to eat in the Great Hall with them.

But James… James understood her _obsession_ with finishing her studies to match her schedule. He still looked at her disapprovingly when she'd willingly skip a few hours of lunch just to finish an essay, but he'd stubbornly refuse to leave without her by his side. James was mostly silent too, much to her appreciation, only occasionally disturbing her if he wanted to ask a question. Sometimes, he'd silently reach out for her hand and hold it tight while he continued to furiously write his essay on his parchment. Often, he'd sneak toffees on the table towards her, which Hermione would gratefully accept. She never understood why James would unabashedly stare at her while she happily chewed her candy, but there was something in his look that made her heart thud loudly inside her ribcage like he was… he was _starved_.

James was steadily becoming a problem – a huge, human-sized, handsome _problem_ \- and Hermione didn't know what to do. Planning for horcrux hunting was definitely hard, especially now she was confronted with the fact that the other horcruxes were mostly hidden in places impossible for her to access. But at least, planning about this specific task was straightforward, with clear cut facts she could work with. Hermione had already formulated a half-arsed plan on how to steal Helga Hufflepuff's Cup and she only needed to add a few more details before telling Regulus.

But James… letting James see that she wasn't worthy of his time, that he should spend the remaining days of his seventh year with Lily Evans instead, was mighty difficult. Never mind the fact that Lily just practically told Hermione she was very much in love with Severus Snape and couldn't wait to spend her forever with him. Because she knew, she bloody well _knew_ she was largely at fault as to why James continued to spend his time with her.

Hermione embarrassingly craved his presence. Her day always seemed incomplete if she hadn't at least seen him briefly and seen his smile. Just the thought that his hand would be wrapped around hers or knowing he'd be sitting across from her or beside her, either quiet or boisterous or just _there_ , already placed her mind at ease. Lily wasn't exaggerating when she said that James was sweet to her; he'd always do a lot of things that made Hermione's heart flutter, and try as she might, she could never fully pull herself away.

Maybe, she thought, she'd indulge herself for a few more weeks. She constantly convinced herself that it would be disastrous if she tried to break up with James prior to NEWTs. She still wanted him to pass with flying colours and to achieve his dreams of becoming an Auror. Hermione didn't want to be cruel, especially when the last few months were crucial for James.

Hermione blinked in surprise when James suddenly pushed a toffee her way, his eyes still trained intently on his parchment.

"Thanks," she murmured, grabbing the candy and removing the wrapper.

When she popped it inside her mouth, she expelled a soft sigh and closed her eyes. The candy melted and coated her tongue, and Hermione happily chewed on it before opening her eyes.

She was surprised that James was staring at her again, with that disarming look in his eyes, and she paused. "What?" she bluntly asked.

James seemed to catch himself staring and furiously blushed. "Nothing," he said, going back to his essay and rigorously scribbling again.

Hermione frowned at him, but decided to let it go. She went back to her Arithmancy textbook and concentrated very hard, but not even a paragraph was done when the words started to swim out of her vision once more.

The Ravenclaw sighed and glanced back at the older wizard, contentedly watching him as he browsed through his Herbology book and jotted a few notes on his parchment.

A small smirk suddenly appeared on his face and without glancing up, he said, "I didn't know I could distract the brightest witch of her age from studying."

Hermione's cheeks coloured in mortification and she hastily hid her face behind her book. "What are you talking about?" she hotly asked.

She heard James'x chuckle as he gently ripped the book from her hands. Hermione scowled and ducked her head, unwilling to stroke his ego more by showing him how flustered he made her.

"Maybe it's time to call it a day," James suggested, the handsome smirk still plastered on his face.

Hermione eyed him suspiciously, wondering why he wasn't gloating about how he'd made her distracted. His smirk morphed into an innocent smile, and Hermione finally sighed and nodded her head twice.

James waved his wand to clean up their things. He grabbed onto both of their backpacks and stretched out his hand, wriggling his fingers to silently demand for Hermione to hold it.

The brunette snorted in amusement and easily interlaced her fingers with his, secretly wondering how in Merlin's rotting teeth she would be able to stop herself from reaching out to him in the near future.

James was steadily becoming a constant presence in her life, just like Peter and Anya had become very important to her as Hermione Pettigrew. She was delusional if she thought they'd continue staying as friends if she broke everything off with him. And Hermione tried to trample that uncomfortable itch in her heart with the fact that she couldn't imagine her life without James Potter in it anymore.

She secretly glanced at James, whose face had suddenly grown serious. She wondered what he was thinking that had brought out such a humongous frown on his face.

As if sensing Hermione's gaze, James looked down at her. "Well somebody can't stop looking at me today," he teased, one corner of his mouth lifting once more into a handsome smirk.

"Shut up, Potter," she murmured under her breath, her cheeks blazing red at being caught again.

He tugged her closer to him while chuckling under his breath. "There's no need to be shy about it, Hermione," he said. "I know I'm _really_ nice to look at."

Despite her embarrassment, Hermione sighed in exasperation. "Last time I checked it was already night time," she pointed out. "Careful there, James. We don't want everybody to be awakened by your sun-sized ego."

"You like that about me. Admit it, you maddening witch," he tutted.

Hermione was unable to suppress a smile, knowing full well that his annoying confidence had been more endearing to her lately than irksome.

"But really, Hermione, is something wrong?"

She looked at him in surprise. "What makes you ask?"

James squeezed her hand and gave her a withering glance. "I don't know. You seemed out of it most of the time," he said. "Much as I love to know that my girlfriend likes to look at my handsome face, I had this inkling that something else troubles you deeply. Enough to distract you from your studies."

She swallowed at how he'd casually addressed her as 'his girlfriend', when Hermione had been trying to avoid calling him her boyfriend, even in her mind. It meant that things were starting to get _serious_ , and Hermione couldn't afford that.

James saw something in her expression, because he stopped walking all together, an uncertain look on his face. "What?" he asked, worried. "What is it? I said something wrong, didn't I?"

"N– no, you didn't," she stammered lamely, unable to meet his hazel eyes.

His grip on her hand tightened. "Is it— I mean— We _are_ going out, aren't we?" he blurted out.

Hermione sighed and slowly looked back at him. James's face looked pinched, as if he was trying to school whatever emotions he had brewing inside his chest. "I…" She bit her bottom lip and took a deep breath. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess so."

"Well then," he said, his hazel eyes turning steely, "it's only natural I start calling you my girlfriend then, isn't it?"

Her heart thudded once more at the word, unsure how to reply to his question. "It's just a silly label, James, honestly," she said with a nervous laugh.

The way his emotions stuttered made her conclude that it wasn't _silly_ for him. It had never been silly for him - ever since he'd confessed his feelings for her. He had always been earnest with his feelings, his eyes speaking volumes on how much he really, truly liked her.

Her tongue turned thick with the guilt that started to bloom inside her heart. She wanted to apologise, just to remove that terrified emotion from his face, to smooth out the worry lines on his forehead, to assure him that no, no, _no_ this wasn't silly for her either. But no words tumbled out from her lips, the panic of betraying Harry Potter, by robbing him the chance to _live,_ clouding her thoughts.

"Will we still continue doing this?" he finally whispered.

Hermione looked at him questioningly and James continued. "Of… of going out on dates. Or holding each other's hands while walking or eating or _studying_. Or exchanging letters with contents I bloody well know Peter would never approve of." James paused and thickly swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing in the process. "I'm going to graduate soon, Hermione. We're not going to see each other as frequently as I would like. So please, _please_ tell me, will we still continue doing this, even if I graduate?"

Her panic increased tenfold, mentally chanting to herself that they shouldn't have this conversation yet. Hermione still had no plan on how to elaborately let him down easy after NEWTs, but James was already asking all the difficult questions. "We'll cross over that bridge once we get there, James," she lightly said, trying to dispel the sudden tension blanketing over them.

A myriad of emotions passed through his hazel eyes – dark brown with flecks of green until it was clear and bright and _earnest_. It hurt Hermione's heart to look at them, because James suddenly looked so serious and deeply upset.

"I'd like to talk about it _now_ , Hermione," he firmly said, his stare unforgiving.

Hermione flushed under his gaze and tried to pull her hand away, but James tightly held her in place. "Please," she pleaded, "don't do this, James."

"Do what?" he asked with a small, hollow laugh. "Ask the difficult questions?"

His words struck her squarely at her heart. James took a mighty, stuttering breath and released it with a soft whoosh, until all that was left in his eyes was raw exhaustion. There was something else, something _honest_ , but Hermione refused to peer at them closely, afraid she'd find herself forever lost in his eyes, unable to crawl far away anymore.

"I have a confession to make," he murmured. "Remember the career essay McGonagall gave us last time?"

Hermione curiously looked at him, unsure where this conversation was going. "Yes," she finally croaked. "I do. Peter hadn't finished his on time and Sirius forgot to do his."

"That's the one," he said with a wry smile. He took another deep breath and squeezed her hand. "There was one question there: where do you see yourself in fifteen years?" His eyes glazed over as he fondly remembered his answer, his wry smile turning kind. "And I really planned to write that I'd be the best Auror the DMLE has ever seen, or I'd be fighting tooth and nail to bring all those dark wizards down. But, after some deep thought, I realised that the future is uncertain. Especially because we are at _war_. Voldemort and his Death Eaters are growing persistent and no matter how much the ministry tries to cover up all the mess they leave, it is glaringly obvious that the pinnacle of this war is approaching." A dry laugh escaped from his mouth. "Who knows? I might not even survive this war."

Hermione's breath hitched at his cruel joke. Tears unknowingly prickled her eyes because there was a time in his joke that was true, leaving a beautiful, brilliant boy to embark on this journey called life alone.

"And so, I was truthful in my answer," James continued, voice turning soft upon noting the tears in her eyes. "I wrote in my essay that it was uncertain where I'd be fifteen years from now, because I don't want to be too optimistic when a Dark Lord is threatening to ruin this world. I was uncertain of everything. Except… except for one thing." His words died down when his eyes steadfastly held her gaze. "Except for _you_."

An embarrassed chuckle escaped from his lips when her eyes widened at his claim. "I wrote down on my essay that amidst the uncertainties in this world, I was only most certain about _you_. How I'd want to change this world to let you live in it peacefully. I know it's ridiculously romantic, perhaps terribly cliché, but it was all I could think about at the time. I did tell you you're all I could think about and…" He made a face. " _Merlin_ , now that I've spoken it aloud, I realized that was a _shitty_ answer."

"James—" She paused. What was she going to say to that?

He gave her hand another gentle squeeze as his gaze turned sorrowful. "So, yes, I'm in it for the long run," he confessed, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment. "And I want to know if you would still like to try things out with me, even beyond Hogwarts, because I don't want to waste your time. Hermione Pettigrew can't afford to waste time, especially when she could give so much to this world."

A tear slid down from her eyes, too overwhelmed at his truthful words. James was expectantly waiting for an answer and Hermione didn't know what to do. His face was steadily crumpling in despair, her long silence already telling. His hold on her hand was slackening, her fingers one by one unwinding from his reverent hold.

And, in that moment, Hermione realised she could never hurt James Potter.

It scared her that Harry Potter might not be born because James and Lily weren't in love. But it scared her _much more_ that she would never see James's smile anymore, or hold his hand, or just… just bask under his warmth and obnoxiousness and _kindness_.

Hermione tightly closed her eyes at the same time she tightly gripped James's hand.

She knew this was a difficult decision to make, one that might have repercussions that would give her a broken heart. But she finally surrendered to the fact that James Potter had managed to squeeze himself into her heart – huge ego and hazel eyes and all – even though she had tried to distance herself.

When she opened her eyes, more tears tumbled out. James was looking at her with an intense gaze, patiently waiting for her to give him an answer. Smiling sadly through her tears, James had been like that to her ever since she'd agreed to go on more dates with him. _Patient_ with her, waiting for her to make the first move, not letting himself cross the line because he knew he might upset her.

She slowly took a few steps towards him, shrinking the distance between them once more, until he was merely a hairsbreadth away. His breath hitched when she tenderly placed a hand against his cheek, letting her fingers fondly rub against his skin.

The past, present and future all crumbled down around her, until all that was left was him, standing stark and bright with Hermione unable to look away. The mere thought that there was somewhere, sometime when she would have gone on with her life without knowing him, _really_ knowing him, made her heart ache. And maybe this was a bad idea, of continuing to let him be part of her life, because it would be difficult to pull away in the end.

But Hermione was tired, _so_ tired of pulling away and denying all the feelings he evoked from her every time he gave her a smile she knew was only reserved for her. There was a different kind of war in her heart, one that forced her to continue building a mighty fortress that separated her from all the people she knew and everything in this world. She'd managed to build bridges to let Peter and Anya in. She tore down some walls so that she could truly love Lily and Sev and genuinely be happy for them. She'd already thrown a rope to pull Regulus from the deep waters he had found himself in.

And then, there was James, patiently waiting for her to let him cross the other side and for her to finally invite him over.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry, James. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry." Her tears increased as her hand slipped behind his neck. "I'm so tired. I don't think I can pull away anymore. I'm sorry. I'm _sorry_."

She didn't know if her apologies were for James – for hurting him, for being distant and cold, for her being unwilling to bring down her walls to let him in.

Or maybe it was for Harry – for letting her heart be stolen by his father, for most likely ruining his chance of being born into a world where there was happiness, _true_ happiness, that he had never been acquainted with.

" _Live a happy life, Hermione_ ," her Harry had whispered to her and she was afraid she would only, truly achieve that if she continued staying by James's side.

James lifted his hand and cradled her jaw against his palm, peering down at Hermione with so much relief and happiness. "Will you… will you let me kiss you?" he tentatively asked. "I've really wanted to for a while now but I—" He thickly swallowed and glanced at her parted lips. "I promise I won't if you tell me not to."

Hermione didn't need to think about his question anymore. Instead, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his.

The Gryffindor froze against her, still unsure if she was really giving him permission. Hermione's grip on his neck tightened and she pressed deeper, _harder_ , parting her lips slightly to nip his bottom lip.

This seemed to bring him back to life as his hands curled protectively around her waist to pull her closer to him. His lips weren't tentative anymore. His lips moved against hers with such ferocity and certainty as one of his hands climbed up to cradle her head. Hermione lifted her other arm to loop around his neck, pulling him closer as she tried to stand on her toes, just so she could shrink whatever minuscule distance was left between them.

He was kissing her like he'd held back for so long and it surprised Hermione greatly, discovering that she herself had been holding back just as much.

James blindly pushed her towards an alcove, unwilling to break the kiss. Once her back collided against the wall, Hermione gasped briefly from the sudden impact, pain bolting up her spine.

"Shite, shite," James whispered, finally breaking the kiss. "Are you all right?"

Hermione softly laughed and pulled him closer. "Yes," she replied. "I'm all right."

He grinned goofily and ducked his head down, capturing her lips once more in a searing kiss. His lips were gentler this time, lazily memorising every inch of her lips with his mouth and his tongue.

Hermione melted against him and met his lips with equal fervour, also memorising every corner of him, trying to tattoo inside her mind the feel of his lips pressed warmly against hers.

Her heart stuttered at the thought of how much she'd been depriving herself of - when kissing James Potter was perhaps the greatest memory she'd ever treasure in her whole life.

"I might," he whispered, distractedly pressing a few more kisses against her lips. "I might start crossing this line a lot of times, Hermione."

The fact was, Hermione knew the line between them had long been blurred. She neither knew where it started or where it even ended.

Hermione gently pulled his face away and cradled both of his cheeks against her hands. She peered at him through the darkly-lit alcove, positively sure that his hazel eyes were warm brown. "You don't have to ask permission to do this anymore," she said. She leaned forward and pressed her forehead against his, chuckling softly when his glasses became askew by her close proximity.

"Yeah?" he asked, hope gleaming in his eyes. "No more looking as if you're torn between fainting in shock or sending a Bat-Bogey Hex my way if I did something… _untoward_?"

Hermione sighed and closed her eyes, briefly pressing a kiss against his lips.

"No more."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, so sorry if this is too fluffy for your own liking. I think I was missing my own SO so much when I wrote this chapter so the feels just kinda went out of hand HAHAHAAH. But yeah, I mean yay for relationship progress, I guess. Again, slow burn-y but Hermione's already taking baby steps hehe.
> 
> See you tomorrow!
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr! (kimmy-writes)


	29. chapter twenty-eight

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**xxviii.**

_**i'll show you good, restore your faith** _

(Orpheus by Sara Bareilles)

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**June 24, 1978**

"Well isn't this adorable?"

Both witches glanced at Severus, whose lips had curled up in disdain at the quaint picnic Hermione had prepared behind the Shrieking Shack.

"Wipe that ridiculous look from your face, Sev," Lily demanded with a small scowl. "It is _adorable_ and I don't mean that sarcastically, Hermione." She crawled closer to Hermione and held her hand. "I really love what you've prepared today."

Hermione's cheeks turned red as a small chuckle escaped from her lips. "Hogsmeade is terribly packed with people," she explained. "I'd rather we enjoy our last Hogsmeade weekend together with just the three of us."

Lily's smile turned forlorn, lightly squeezing Hermione's hand. Even Sev's eyes softened as he sat on the picnic blanket beside his girlfriend.

The seventh years had finally finished their NEWTs, much to _Hermione's_ relief. The remaining days prior to the final exams had been rigorous and stressful, to say the least. Peter had numerous breakdowns and Hermione had to calm him down most of the time, reassuring him that he'd do well in the end. Mary was a blessing as she was able to calm him down with just her mere presence. Since then, every time Peter was studying in the library for his NEWTs, Hermione made sure that Mary was there to keep his sanity in check.

Even Sirius had grown _serious_ , keeping his quips to a minimum as he tried to cram as much information into his head as possible. Remus had been his usual diligent self, but Hermione could see how the stress of a full moon combined with NEWTs had steadily been taking its toll on the werewolf. Hermione reverently supplied him with bars of chocolate to keep him going, and Remus always looked at her appreciatively. James had his own share of breakdowns too, topped with his growing pile of Head Boy responsibilities and the frustration of studying Arithmancy. Hermione had been the dutiful girlfriend, always soothing his worries with brief kisses on the cheek and even letting him hold her hand while he furiously studied, squeezing her hand every so often to get as much comfort as he could.

Hermione was a bundle of nerves during the weeks of their NEWTs. Admittedly, she had been distracted from her own final exams, constantly praying to the cosmic stars above that her friends would be able to breeze through the most important tests of their whole life.

She was only able to breathe easy when the last day of NEWTs finally arrived. Hermione still hadn't seen the Marauders, opting to search for them after lunch with her best friends. She just hoped they were well.

Hermione sadly smiled at her best friends and reached for Sev with her other free hand. The Slytherin, who normally scorned at any affection besides Lily's, gripped her hand equally tight. "I'm going to miss you both so much," she said, tears glistening in her eyes.

Lily was comically trying to wipe away her tears but failed terribly in the end. "I'm going to miss you too," the fiery redhead said as she threw her arms around the younger witch and held on tight.

Sev sighed at their ridiculousness, but the corners of his lips twitched into a small, fond smile. "I'm going to see you often next year, I'm sure," he reassured.

Hermione peeked over Lily's shoulder and frowned. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"He's going to apply for a teaching position here at Hogwarts," Lily answered for the Slytherin, completely pulling away to grin at her boyfriend. "Tell her what good deed you've done, Sev."

"What good deed?" Hermione asked, glancing at Sev with curious eyes. Said wizard's cheeks were already blazing red with embarrassment as he glowered petulantly at Lily.

" _Nothing_ ," he said through gritted teeth. "It wasn't a big deal anyway."

"Oh, it is a _big_ deal," Lily insisted, beaming proudly at Sev. "You know how he thought of applying for the DADA position? Well, he overheard from Slughorn that _Remus_ was eyeing that position too, so Sev opted to try applying for the Potions position instead, knowing he's brilliant at it anyway."

Hermione smiled warmly at Sev, who directed his glaring eyes at her this time. "It wasn't a big deal," he grumbled again under his breath, petulantly grabbing onto a muffin. "I'm sure Lupin will have a hard time searching for a job outside Hogwarts because…" His words died down, tentatively glancing at Lily, who was still oblivious to Remus's lycanthropy.

" _Why_? He's the smartest Marauder!" Lily exclaimed. "I'm sure he'd be a brilliant Auror, too, like his friends."

Sev merely shrugged. "Perhaps he's the sanest of the lot," he coolly pointed out. "Everybody knows becoming an Auror in this climate is asking for a death sentence."

Hermione considerably paled at his words, which wasn't left unnoticed by her best friends.

"I'm sure they'll be fine," Lily assured with a small smile. "Potter's really brilliant at Transfiguration and Charms. Black and your brother are above average with Defence Against the Dark Arts. You have nothing to worry about."

"Except, of course, they're reckless Gryffindors through and through," Hermione said with a soft sigh. Lily's smile turned apologetic, prompting the brunette to chuckle. "It's fine. I'm sure they'll be great Aurors in the end."

Lily leaned against Hermione and gave her a one-armed hug for comfort. "I'll start my Unspeakable training as soon as I graduate," she said. "I can keep an eye on your boys in the ministry, if you'd like."

Hermione snorted. "They'll be unstoppable, no matter what," she said with a fond smile. "Just focus on your Unspeakable training, Lils."

The trio spoke about random things after that, with Hermione asking questions about their future. Lily was still going to move in with Sev at Spinner's End, and the lovely redhead had been gushing about all the furniture and wallpapers she'd been browsing in a catalogue. Sev would roll his eyes, pointing out how much he was dreading how she'd surely 'Lily-fy' his home, but the warmth in his eyes was obvious. Hermione genuinely felt happy, and excited, for her best friends.

"Oh, I promised to meet James and the others for a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks!" Hermione exclaimed, as she glanced down at her wristwatch to look at the time. "I'm sorry I have to go."

"That's fine," Lily said with a small smirk growing on her face. "More time with the sourpuss."

The brunette made a face in disgust while Sev turned a brilliant shade of red. "You're both really gross. Do you know that?" she complained.

Lily expelled a loud laugh. "And you think you and Potter are any different?" she shot back. "Merlin, the googly, pining eyes must _stop_. It's annoying!"

"I don't make googly eyes," Hermione lamely defended, knowing full well that she, without any ounce of doubt, always made googly eyes at James when he wasn't sitting beside her. After that fateful night with that wonderful kiss, things had been lovely with James. Now that she had promised herself she would never hold back, Hermione made it a point to spend as much time as she could with him, seeing that he was leaving Hogwarts soon. Even the Marauders voiced out their annoyance with their newfound clinginess, but James would merely laugh and pull her closer to him, warmly wrapping an arm around her waist like it truly belonged there.

"She's making it again," Sev said with a disgusted sneer. "The googly eyes."

The redhead was torn between laughing and gagging in disgust. "Fine, go to your boyfriend, _Merlin_ ," she said, making shooing motions with her hands.

Hermione sheepishly smiled at her best friends, her cheeks already blazing red. "Wait, I still have something to give you both." She pulled out a small pouch from her pocket and removed two medium-sized boxes. Lily was gaping at her.

"How'd you do that?" she asked with a gasp.

Sev's eyes were narrowed suspiciously. "Did you use an Undetectable Extension Charm?" he asked, a mixture of disbelief and awe in his voice.

"Shh," Hermione furiously said. "You know that it's technically—"

"—illegal, yes we know," Sev finished, now with a sneaky smirk on his face. "I didn't know you had it in you, Pettigrew."

"Shut up," she snapped, throwing him a withering glare. "It's _useful_ and I'm not hiding anything shady inside."

Lily looked dubious, but her green eyes were already trained on the two boxes beside Hermione. "What are those?" she curiously asked.

"My graduation gifts for you both," Hermione said with a warm smile. "Now that NEWTs are finished and your graduation is in a few days, I thought it'd be best to give you a parting gift."

Hermione grabbed onto a green gift with a silver and bow and gave it to Sev. The red gift with a gold ribbon was for Lily. "Go on. Open them," she urged.

Lily was the first to open her gift, excitedly tearing through the neatly wrapped paper Hermione had worked on last night. "Oh," Lily gasped, her eyes pooling with tears, as she gazed at the stacks of five, thick tomes about being an Unspeakable, and other important subjects she would need to pursue, like Arithmancy and Divination. The redhead had no words as she threw her arms around Hermione and softly cried against her shoulder. Hermione smiled fondly at the redhead and patted her shoulder for comfort.

Sev finally opened his gift – a handsome copper cauldron – prompting his eyes to widen. "Copper cauldrons are the most expensive of all," he pointed out, his dark eyes glittering as he reverently held the prized cauldron in his hands. "It must have cost you a fortune, Hermione."

"Yes, well, I'm a mean saver," the brunette merely said, secretly thinking of how Anya had increased her allowance for this year, knowing that it would be her last year with her friends.

"Thank you," Sev whispered, a small, kind smile appearing on his face. "I will use it well."

Hermione beamed and pulled his arm towards her, so she could hug him too. "I'm going to miss you both so much," she said with a sigh, knowing that the next school year would be different now that her friends were gone.

**-ooo-**

Predictably, the Three Broomsticks was packed when Hermione went inside. She scanned the whole crowd to see any tell-tale signs of the Marauders. Even before she found them, Sirius's barking laugh resounded in the whole pub, making her smile.

She spied them sitting at one booth, heads bent together as Sirius recounted a particularly gripping anecdote that made him shake with uncontrollable laughter. Remus was rolling his eyes at his best friend's antics, but the corner of his lips was twitching into a small smile. Peter was unabashedly slapping the table, raucous laughter escaping from his lips, undoubtedly amused by whatever Sirius was talking about.

James was missing, though, and after another brief scan around the pub, she saw him at the counter, placing bottles of butterbeer and chips on a tray. Hermione purposively meandered through the crowded place until she had reached the bespectacled wizard.

"Hi," she greeted, grabbing onto his elbow to get his attention.

His hazel eyes landed on her as a huge smile broke out on his face. "Hermione," he said, looking genuinely happy to see her. Her cheeks flushed when he bent down and placed a kiss on the crown of her head, unable to stop a silly smile from growing on her face.

"How were the NEWTs?" she asked, trailing behind him as he led them back to where the others were seated.

"Bloody fucking hard," he grumbled.

Peter quickly stood up from his seat when he saw his sister. "Hermione!" he whined, throwing his arms around her shoulders. "I _survived_!"

Hermione snorted and fondly patted his back, knowing full well how much stress the NEWTs had caused her brother. "Good for you," she said, grinning widely at Remus and Sirius. "How were the NEWTs?"

A chorus of grumbled responses ran through the small group, prompting her to laugh. "At least it's done," she said, smiling briefly at James when he pulled out a chair for her to sit on.

"I'm _so done_ with this stupid year," Sirius exclaimed, expelling a melodramatic sigh and leaning tiredly against Remus's shoulder. "I just want to sleep."

Remus roughly pushed him away and grimaced. "I think after hanging out here, I'm going to crash on my bed and call it a day," he said with a sombre nod.

Hermione smiled kindly at the exhausted Marauders and quickly placed the bottles of butterbeer in each of their hands. "Come on, then," she urged. "Drink up and eat. We'll leave once you've finished those so you can rest."

"Always so bossy," James said with a fond smile. "Who's going to mother us now that we're graduating soon, Whiskers?"

"We're going to miss you so much," Sirius said with a deep frown, reaching forward to hold Hermione's hand with both of his big hands. "We'll try to visit as much as we can, kitten. Promise."

The younger witch laughed and pulled her hand away. "It's just going to be a _year_ ," she reminded them. "It's not as if we'll never see each other anymore."

"But it's not the same," Remus pointed out with a sad smile. "No one's going to stop you from studying like crazy, Hermione."

"No one's going to force you to eat or take a nap," James added, grimacing as he took a huge gulp from his butterbeer. "You'll start hanging out with your Ravenclaw friends and they won't even be able to stop you from exhausting yourself too much."

Peter softly chuckled under his breath and tenderly squeezed Hermione's elbow. "No one has ever been able to stop Hermione Pettigrew, not when her mind is set on something," he corrected.

"Don't worry about me," she said. "Worry about your future _careers_. I heard Auror recruitment starts a week after your graduation."

Sirius expelled a mighty groan. "Don't remind us," he grumbled. "We still haven't had enough rest from seven years of _school_ and now we're expected to start pursuing a _career_?" He sneered and glumly crammed a chip inside his mouth. "Maybe I shouldn't apply. Despite being disinherited, I'm still filthy rich - enough to last me a lifetime, all thanks to my Uncle Alphard."

"Shh, don't let Wormtail hear you say that," James mock whispered while obviously peering at Hermione's brother. "You know he'd be hurt if his 'Pureblood friends' finally decided that being an Auror was a waste of time."

Peter glowered at the two and gave them a rude gesture. "What happened to brothers through and through?" he snapped.

James laughed and leaned forward to pat his hand. "Don't worry, Petey," he said with a wicked smirk. "We won't leave you behind." He pulled back, his smirk now morphing into a smile. "Besides, it'd be boring not to do anything for the rest of my life, never mind how filthy rich we are."

"Purebloods," Hermione and Peter murmured under their breaths at the same time, prompting James to laugh.

Their merry conversation was momentarily halted when the doors of the Three Broomsticks opened. In came Regulus Black and his other Slytherin friends, Crouch and Rosier. Hermione's eyes met Regulus's, who gave the tiniest of nods before looking away.

"Berk."

Hermione's eyes landed on Sirius, who was glowering darkly at his younger brother's back. The brunette bit her tongue, knowing that if she revealed that Regulus had been working with her to bring down Voldemort, all hell would break loose. Besides, they didn't even know what she'd been doing behind their backs. Still, it was uncomfortable how Sirius gazed at his brother like he'd betrayed everything he believed in, when in fact he and Regulus were on the same side.

"I heard something disturbing a few days ago," James suddenly murmured, leaning forward and looking very grim. "Voldemort's already been able to recruit students and had been chummying up with various heirs of Pureblood families."

Out of the corner of her eyes, Hermione saw how Sirius stiffened at James's words.

The Potter heir's jaw tensed and Hermione secretly reached for his hand underneath the table, if only to provide some comfort from whatever bothered him. His face softened at her touch, but there were still creases on his forehead. "I'm not sure if I should say this but…" His words trailed off as he scooted much closer, disallowing others from overhearing what he was about to say. "A few days before NEWTs, I received a suspicious letter. It wasn't signed or anything. It just said that if I wanted a glorious, new world, I should go to the Hog's Head." His lips twisted in disgust. "Any sane person would know it's Voldemort's concealed invitation to become part of his stupid army."

Hermione paled at his story, her hand tightly gripping his at the thought that _Voldemort_ had invited him to join the Death Eaters. Only, of course, brave and just James Potter would never even imagine joining the Dark Lord's cause.

"I received one too," Sirius revealed. Hermione's eyes widened as she glanced at him, a grim frown on his face. "I burnt it into smithereens even before I'd finished reading it."

Peter expelled a soft sigh and pierced James with his blue eyes. "You were right," he said. "He came after me too."

"You too?" Hermione gasped, her other free hand grasping onto Peter's arm, as if her hold could keep him in place and stop him from running towards the dark side.

"We have Selwyn blood, Hermione," her brother sombrely pointed out. "It's still Sacred Twenty-Eight." Unadulterated fear flashed in his blue eyes, darkening whatever brightness they'd always had when looking at her. "He might come for you, too."

Her breath hitched at his words, her head swimming with raw fear and panic. She had tried her best to lie low all of these years so that she would never move into Voldemort's radar. She knew that was impossible now, especially because she was actively participating in his demise. _Still_ , the thought that the Dark Lord may most likely know about her already, the brightest witch of her age, made her terrified. A flash of the ominous dark mark, green and menacing, enveloping the hotel where she and Harry had last been together, resurfaced in her memory.

Two hands squeezed her hands tight, as if trying to anchor her back to reality. The worried faces of the Marauders swam into her vision and Hermione silently shook her head, ridding herself of the dark memories she didn't wish to think about right now.

"We're not going to let that happen," James vehemently promised.

Hermione took a deep, shuddering breath, willing her heart to slow down. "I know," she whispered, her tongue thick inside her mouth. But she managed to give them a small, reassuring smile, which marginally relieved the tension in their small group.

"Besides," the bespectacled wizard continued, "Dad told me he's been talking with Dumbledore for the past few days now." A small, proud smile bloomed on his face. "He revealed that he was planning to recruit us, the _four_ of us, once we have graduated, to join the Order of the Phoenix."

She perked up at the mention of the resistance, her heart beating wildly once more, this time for an entirely different reason.

"It's an order Dumbledore made, whose primary goal is to bring Voldemort down," Peter explained, mistaking her expression as one of confusion. "It's… I'm sure you'll know about it soon. I have no doubt that Dumbledore might try to recruit you too after you graduate. He might deem you too young right now."

Hermione expelled a hollow laugh, remembering eleven-year-old Harry Potter confronting Voldemort's soul and coming out alive. "There's no young or old in war," she bitterly said. "There's only survive or be killed."

Peter looked stricken by her words. "Blimey, Hermione, that's just… disturbing," Sirius quipped, looking deeply bothered by her words.

"You're not supposed to say things like that," Remus worriedly said. "It's… we're going to _win_ this war, right? It's _Dumbledore_. He's strong. If anybody can take Voldemort down, it's him."

The brunette bit her tongue, not wanting to spout words that would disturb their innocent optimism.

"All right," James said, nervously chuckling and running a hand through his hair. "Maybe talking about the war isn't a good topic on our last Hogsmeade weekend, lads."

Sirius snorted while Remus sadly smiled. Hermione peered at her brother and saw the fear and determination was still in his eyes, but Peter started to smile too.

"I got you all something," she then declared. "Graduation gifts. Just to – just so we can stop thinking about the war for now." She shakily grinned and started fishing for four coins in her pocket. The cheap knuts she showed were eyed weirdly by the Marauders, but she merely smiled and passed them around.

"Um… thank you?" Peter tentatively said, peering at the knut, just to see if there was anything special about it.

"It has a Protean Charm, you dolts," Hermione laughed, noting how the collective clarity appeared on their faces. "Since you'll mostly be sent on missions as Aurors – _and_ , apparently as Order members too – I thought it'd be easier for you to communicate through it."

"This is NEWT level Charms work," Remus claimed, very impressed with Hermione's handiwork. He flipped the coin to the other side and grinned. "This is actually very handy. Thanks, Hermione."

She smiled in return. "Don't put it in your pockets," she said, this time directing her words at the two Purebloods in their group. "You might end up spending it. It's _complicated_ magic and I've spent a few days perfecting them."

James grinned and placed the coin against his heart. "We'll protect it at all costs, Whiskers," he said. "Marauder's honour."

Hermione rolled her eyes and proceeded to pull out her pouch with the Undetectable Extension Charm on it and fished out three, various sized-gifts, all wrapped in Gryffindor red with a golden bow and a letter.

When she passed the first gift to Sirius, she snorted at how they were still gaping at her. "Yes, I've placed an Undetectable Expansion Charm on my bag," she said. "Yes, I know it's bloody illegal. And no, I'm not hiding anything shady."

James beamed and threw an arm around her shoulders. "I knew you were the truest marauder of us all," he said, awe in his voice, as he smacked a huge kiss on her cheek. She laughed and blushed, pulling away from him, while Peter made gagging noises beside him.

" _Please_ , not in front of me," he whined.

"Holy Mother of—" They all glanced at Sirius as he had finally unwrapped his gift. He pulled out a black, Muggle leather jacket. Hermione grinned when Sirius gaped at his gift and quickly donned it over his thin, grey robes. "How do I look?"

"Like an idiot," Remus quipped.

Sirius rolled his eyes and winked at Hermione instead. "How do I look, kitten?" he asked, a cheshire grin growing on his face.

Hermione's eyes sparkled, admittedly finding him ridiculously attractive in the black, leather jacket. She remembered older Sirius Black's stories, of his undying love for anything black and leathery, because it made him look like the rebellious disinherited heir he'd wanted to project. "Really good, actually," she said, her smile widening when James lightly scowled and tugged her arm, as if demanding her attention was returned to him.

"I've been _dying_ to get my hands on something like this," he said, plopping down on his chair. Sirius didn't look like he'd shrug the leather jacket off any time soon. "How'd you know?"

The brunette snorted. "You own a monstrous motorcycle and you always wear those ridiculous, leather boots of yours," she simply said. "Why not complete the look with a leather jacket?"

"I really, _really_ like you, Hermione Pettigrew," Sirius declared with a barking laugh. "Tell me as soon as possible if Prongs breaks your heart. I'll take good care of you."

"OI!" both Peter and James boomed, the former turning sickly white whilst the latter comically covered both of Hermione's ears. The Ravenclaw flushed red and batted James's hands away, unable to hold in a bubbling laugh.

"Aren't you dating Marlene?" Remus asked with a frown.

Sirius casually shrugged and leant back in his chair. "It isn't anything serious," he flippantly said. He then jutted his chin out at the remaining gifts on the table. "Go on, lads. Open Hermione's gifts."

Peter opened his gift next and smiled upon seeing a sneakoscope. Hermione fondly smiled at the contraption, remembering how she'd given the exact same thing to Harry on his seventeenth birthday. "Use it well," Hermione said, remembering how said contraption had alerted the Golden Trio once to nearby Snatchers. "I'm sure once you become an Auror, you'll need it to alert you as to whether someone is trustworthy or not."

"I'm not even an Auror yet, blimey," he said, cheeks reddening as a sheepish smile appeared on his face. "Thanks, Hermione."

"Mum and I also bought you another gift," she excitedly said. "It'll be a hassle if we give it you here, so Mum decided you'd get to see it once we got home."

"What is it?" he asked, narrowing his eyes in curiosity.

Her smile merely grew wider as she tried to project meaning in her eyes.

His blue eyes grew wide as his jaw dropped. "You didn't—"

"We did," she pointed out with a laugh.

Peter yelped and drew Hermione into a bone-crushing hug. "Blimey, that must have cost a fortune!" he exclaimed, his smile reaching his clear, blue eyes.

"What? What is it? What did you get Wormtail?" Sirius excitedly asked.

"A car," Hermione answered. Peter whooped and hugged her tight once more. "He'd been lamenting how he's wanted one since last year, I think. Mum thought it was a terrible waste, since we have other convenient means of travelling, but Peter was insistent." She sheepishly smiled at her brother and continued, "It's not brand new, though. Mum had to 'borrow' a few galleons from her secret Selwyn vault, so a second hand car was the only thing we could afford."

"It doesn't matter," Peter said. "I have my own car!"

"Do you even know how to drive?" Remus asked, quirking an eyebrow in amusement.

"Peter's really good with anything to do with automobiles," Hermione proudly said with a grin. "I think it stemmed from his earlier obsession with skateboards."

Peter suddenly groaned and hid his face behind his hands. "Now, I really do have to become an Auror," he cried. "Mum's gonna kill me if I botch that up."

"No, she won't," Hermione said, squeezing his arm in comfort. "You know that she'd be infinitely proud of you whatever career you choose in the end."

Her older brother sighed and grinned, drawing Hermione into another hug.

"My turn!" James happily quipped, spying his name on the remaining box. He excitedly tore the wrapper away, his eyebrows flying up to his hairline, when he saw an eyeglasses case. Hermione peered at him in silent anticipation as he opened the case. Nestled inside was a pair of black, thick-rimmed glasses, the style of which was currently very trendy in the Muggle world.

"They aren't ordinary glasses," Hermione explained as James lifted them from the case. "It lets you see through any precipitation or smoke and they will even protect you from the wind when you're flying on your broom." The brunette shyly smiled when James removed his current glasses and perched his new ones on his nose. "Also, I noticed your old glasses annoyed you - since they kept on slipping down your nose. I figured you hadn't changed glasses for years and merely used _Reparos_ when the need arose."

James glanced at her and casually grinned. "How do I look?" he asked, his hazel eyes solely on her.

"Um…" Hermione thickly swallowed, noting how his new glasses made him more unfairly attractive. Thick-rimmed glasses suited his dishevelled hair and gleaming hazel eyes and _Merlin_ , Hermione embarrassingly thought that if she and James had been alone right now, she would have snogged him senselessly. "Really good."

"Only good?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow as he ducked his head and neared his face towards the flustered brunette. Her nose was instantly filled by his masculine scent, prompting her throat to go dry. "Try again, Hermione."

She suddenly flinched when Peter's new sneakoscope spun madly. Her eyes widened, wondering if there was anyone untrustworthy nearby. She was then pulled back by her brother, who was now scowling lightly at his best friend. "My new sneakoscope tells me you are bloody untrustworthy right now, Prongs. Back off," he admonished.

Hermione's cheeks flushed redder when there was a dangerous glint in James's eyes, his gaze briefly landing on her parted lips.

"Right, sorry," James laughed, ruffling his hair and looking away, his cheeks also dusted with red.

Ever since she'd told him he didn't need to ask for her permission when he wanted to do something _untoward_ , James had become bolder. Sometimes, his hands would hover over body parts society would deem inappropriate to touch in public, or his lips would travel lower than her neck to nip at her collarbone. Snogging James Potter was steadily becoming Hermione's most favourite pastime, but things were starting to get a tad _dangerous_ , and Hermione didn't trust herself enough not to give in to too much temptation.

A handsome smirk grew on James's face as he unabashedly quirked an eyebrow in Hermione's direction. She lightly glared at him, her cheeks still bloody red, knowing full well she'd stroked his ego once more for openly staring at him, _admiring_ how ridiculously handsome he was in his new glasses.

"And my gift?" A hopeful voice spoke up.

She forced herself to look away from the mesmerising boy and kindly smiled at Remus. "Here," she said, offering the only letter on the table.

Remus tentatively grasped the parchment and slowly opened it, his golden eyes already running through the words written by Damocles Belby.

"I really wanted to give you something helpful, Remus," she explained, clasping her hands tightly as she watched his face. " _This_ is the only thing I could think of and _Merlin_ , I'm so glad he agreed."

The expression on Remus's face flittered quickly. First, he was in shock, then he was in disbelief, and then a huge smile stretched widely on his scarred face, his golden eyes glistening from suppressed tears.

"I recently heard that Damocles Belby was trying to formulate a cure for lycanthropy," she continued. This piqued the other three's interests, who had all been eyeing Remus curiously when he'd silently read the letter. "So, I reached out to him and tried to help. He at first thought it was hopeless and – well – maybe I gave him quite a few inputs of my own." Hermione chuckled, fondly remembering her persistent research that would help create the Wolfsbane potion. "He experimented for months after that and he recently told me that he thinks he's created a useful potion. Granted, it cannot cure the ailment, _but_ it can help make the transformation less painful and tiring. I think the most important thing, too, is that you would be able to keep your sanity, preventing you from wreaking havoc during the full moon."

Remus's eyes lifted from the letter as a small tear trailed down from his eyes.

"He's looking for volunteers to test his potion," she continued, "and I might have told him I know someone who'd be willing." She looked uncertain for a moment. " _You_ are willing, right?"

"Of course," he said in a heartbeat. "Of course, Hermione. _Of course_."

Her grin stretched wide on her face once more. "The ingredients to make it will be really expensive and brewing the potion can take a lot of skill and time," she continued. "And I know you don't have the money nor the Potions skill, so I asked Mister Belby that if his potion proved to be successful, you'd get a lifetime supply until he died. It's – _well_ – I hope it isn't too much. It wasn't really that hard talking to Damocles Belby. He's terribly accommodating, actually, and he appreciated my insights. I think he really, _truly_ wanted to create a potion for people like you, Remus."

The werewolf suddenly stood up from his seat, the chair toppling behind him. Remus didn't seem to mind as he quickly jogged towards Hermione and pulled her up, wrapping his arms around her in a breath-taking hug.

"Thank you, Hermione," he said, voice thick with emotion, even though more tears didn't fall from his eyes. "This is— I can't— _thank you_."

Tears formed in Hermione's eyes as she tenderly returned the hug. "Your ailment… it's just _that_ , Remus," she said. "It doesn't make you a monster, you know. I hope you'll soon accept that."

He squeezed her tight, prompting her to expel a surprised squeak.

"Oi!" James then exclaimed. "Stop harassing my girlfriend, you berk."

Remus laughed and slowly released Hermione, the tears he'd been suppressing now tumbling down from his eyes. Hermione beamed at the others, noting how their eyes were extra glassier now, undoubtedly happy for their best friend too.

**-ooo-**

"I still have a gift for you, actually."

James stopped walking and turned to Hermione, question in his eyes. "Yeah?" he asked, squeezing her hand slightly as a small smile appeared on his face. "Why didn't you give it to me back at the Three Broomsticks?"

Hermione flushed. "It's— never mind that," she snapped, already pulling out the amulet she'd spent the last few months perfecting. As opposed to the red one she'd given to Peter years ago, the gemstone hanging on the brown thread was a handsome shade of light brown with flecks of mossy green that glinted brightly when hit by moonlight.

Like James's eyes.

"It's an amulet," she explained, unsure why she couldn't meet his eyes. "It's supposed to protect you from dark magic. You know, make invisible shields that can dampen the damage or… or alert you if a dark spell comes your way. It's going to be useful once you become an Auror _and_ an Order member."

When silence met her words, she hesitantly glanced back at James. He was gazing at her intensely, prompting her to thickly swallow. "I– I mean, it isn't really _that_ special," she hotly continued. "I've given Peter one before for his protection, too, so you're not the only one who has an amulet made by me."

James laughed and easily slid an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. "You don't have to deny that _I'm_ special to you, Hermione," he cheekily said, sneakily placing a light kiss on her lips that almost made her heart burst out from her chest.

"Now, don't get too cocky," she breathlessly whispered, meaning for her words to be indignant, but her brain was already fuzzy at his close proximity. "You might flunk your Concealment and Disguise test, for failing to hide that humongous ego of yours."

James laughed again and leant down, capturing Hermione's lips once more. Whatever thoughts she had in mind, all flew out of the window, as she eagerly tiptoed to press herself closer to him. James grinned against her lips and pulled away. Hermione embarrassingly released a soft whine in protest, prompting his grin to widen.

"So, I stumbled upon this nifty alcove yesterday," he casually said, already tugging Hermione to Merlin-knows-where. "It's quite hidden, not even Filch could find it."

Her lower abdomen twitched sinfully at how he threw her a suggestive smirk. "Um… curfew's in a few," she distractedly said.

"I'm Head Boy," he stated matter-of-factly. "I can always tell Filch I've been teaching you a lesson if we get caught."

Her eyes widened, scandalised at his innuendo.

"I'm kidding, Hermione, Merlin," James exclaimed with a small, nervous laugh. "We're going to take things slow, remember?"

She swatted his arm. "Berk," she said, trying to bite her lips to stop from grinning silly when James laughed again and proceeded to pull her inside the hidden alcove he'd discovered.

* * *

**June 30, 1978**

Hermione beamed brightly and clapped enthusiastically as Lily finished her graduation speech and smiled warmly at the crowd. Her eyes lingered on Sev, who was proudly smiling at his girlfriend.

Headmaster Dumbledore then stood up and approached the graduating class of 1978, pride clear in his twinkling blue eyes. "Before I send you off into the real world," he started, a kind, small smile appearing on his wrinkled face, "I would like to remind you that at times like this, we have to start choosing a side." His smile faltered, his eyes dimmed a bit, and Hermione paled, recognising that look after seeing it a lot in the past. "I may not be able to dictate what choices you make in the future, but know this, my dear students, that I hope you make all the _right_ choices. You may stumble down and swerve from the correct path, but never lose sight of what you truly believe in. I will not sugar-coat my words and promise that the real world will be a bright, exciting adventure, because it is not." He paused and pinned the whole crowd with a stare. When his eyes briefly landed on Hermione's, she took a sharp intake of breath, overwhelmed by sudden emotions – of fear and uncertainty – and she was only able to breathe easy when he looked away.

"Know who your friends are because they will help you walk through life," he added, his voice now softer. "Remember the only thing that can conquer evil is love." He briefly smiled, noting how some of the students, and even the guests rolled their eyes at his clichéd speech. "It is true, nonetheless. Thus, love hard. Love fierce. _Love unwaveringly_. That is the only time when light can truly shine upon us."

He then brandished his wand with a flourish and made a series of complicated spells. Hermione felt a shiver as collectively, all the House colours of the graduating students were stripped from their robes. Now, they all bore identical black robes, reminiscent of how they had all looked as frightened first years - hope and nervous anticipation in their eyes.

"Congratulations to the Class of 1978," the Headmaster finished with a boom. "Allons-y!"

Hermione snorted at his ridiculous quip, which was _so_ Dumbledore, and laughed when the seventh years echoed it with enthusiasm.

After the graduation ceremony, Hermione was pulled into various directions. Posing with Anya and Peter to add to their growing collection of pictures, laughing and crying with Lily and Sev as they tried to knock the breath out of Hermione by hugging her really tightly, and trying to dodge the playful pats and pinches by the Marauders.

"ATTENTION, EVERYBODY!"

The crowd grew silent as they stared at the front of the Great Hall. Hermione's eyes widened at seeing James standing on top of _Dumbledore's_ podium, as if he had no care in the world. The professors were looking at James in horror, but the other Marauders erected a protective shield around James.

Hermione exchanged glances at Lily. "Aren't you going to do something as Head Girl?" she asked, unable to suppress a smile from growing.

Lily gave her a smirk. "I'm not Head Girl anymore," she simply said.

Hermione snorted and looked back at her boyfriend.

"It has been a great pleasure entertaining you all for the past seven years," he continued with his _Sonorus-ed_ voice. "But alas, all good things must come to an end. I would like to thank all of you who have supported us through and through, and although there have been some huge roadblocks to our path as the greatest pranksters Hogwarts has ever had the privilege of seeing – huge shout out to you Filch and your ugly cat! – I think we've served this school well."

His eyes briefly landed on Hermione and he smirked, prompting her to roll her eyes. "And thus, dear professors, teachers, and guests, Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs are officially signing out."

The four Gryffindors deeply bowed and the whole crowd erupted into raucous applause. Even Lily was screaming at the top of her lungs, excitedly clapping for these rowdy boys that used to make her life a living hell. Hermione laughed and heartily clapped for her boys.

"FOR HOGWARTS!" James screamed, pointing his wand upwards.

"FOR HOGWARTS!" Peter, Sirius and Remus repeated, also with pointed wands.

The protective shield surrounding James shattered with a loud boom, as identical lights shot out from their wands. The lights flew out of the Great Hall and everybody excitedly ran outside, wanting to see the last spectacular performance the Marauders would create.

Hermione grinned widely as the lights shot upwards like fireworks into the sky and burst into multi-coloured sparkles, forming distinctive shapes of a stag, a dog, a wolf, and a rat. The four animals pranced playfully in the air before coalescing into one image – that of the Hogwarts crest. The whole crowd cheered once more as more fireworks were released into the air, much to Filch's disgruntlement and Dumbledore's delight.

"So," James said, sliding beside her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders, "was it spectacular enough?"

Hermione smiled widely at the wizard beside her. "You're definitely leaving with a boom," she pointed out with a laugh. She looked back at the sky, delighted as more fireworks sparkled in the sky, colourful showers raining down, before disappearing into smoke and being swept idly away by the wind.

"Whose idea was this?" she asked.

He squeezed her shoulder affectionately, forcing her to look back at him. "All four of us, of course," he stated matter-of-factly.

Hermione's eyes landed on the other three - Sirius and Peter were jumping up and down like giddy, little boys while Remus boisterously laughed, tears of happiness already trailing down from his golden eyes.

"Hogwarts will not be the same without you four," she whispered amidst the cheering crowd, as sadness crept into her heart.

James placed a sweet kiss on the side of her temple. "All good things must come to an end," he echoed with a sad smile. "Besides, the four of us will have plenty of fun in the outside world. I can't wait for you to join us out there, Whiskers."

She looked up at the sky once more and smiled. For now, there was no war outside, no horcruxes to hunt, and no Dark Lords to kill. There was only Hogwarts, and this warm boy, and hope – for a brighter future, for a _better future_.

"I can't wait either."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… um it's my birthday today so as a gift, I present to you Bold/Cheeky James. I know y'all love Jealous James but, personally, this side of him is my favorite hahahahaha. It's also nice to know that my kind of fluffy is your kind of fluff too haha. More to come! And kudos to those who spotted the Doctor Who reference hahaha.
> 
> So, the Marauders, Lily, and Sev are already graduates but they'll still appear in a lot of scenes in the future. I promise! More Jamione too of course (duh hahah). The next two chapters will be about Hermione's very eventful summer and oh boy, I can't wait for this fic to reach Hermione's 7th year hehe.
> 
> See you tomorrow!
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr! (kimmy-writes)


	30. chapter twenty-nine

* * *

**xxix.**

_**where there is light, a shadow appears** _

(Sorrow by Sleeping at Last)

* * *

**July 15, 1978**

Hermione stared at the blank parchment on top of her table and tried to formulate the proper words to tell Regulus that she finally had a plan for their horcrux hunt. She hummed under her breath and thoughtfully brushed the soft ends of her turkey quill against her chin, before dipping the nib inside the inkwell.

_Regulus,_

_I think the next best thing to do for our mission is to procure the Cup._

The brunette paused, wondering if it would be wise to add more details in this letter. Regulus was living at Grimmauld Place, after all, and no doubt it would be swarming with fellow Death Eaters who were too blinded by Voldemort's promises of power and prestige. She'd rather he didn't get into trouble just by corresponding with her.

She finally decided the brief letter was enough and signed it with her initials.

"Bring this to Regulus Black of 12 Grimmauld Place, Toffee," she softly requested, running a finger over the owl's head. She hooted happily and flew out of the window.

Now, all Hermione had to do was to wait for his reply.

**-ooo-**

Toffee came back a few hours after that, this time with a new parchment tied around her claw.

Hermione was in the middle of reading _Anne of Green Gables,_ whichMary had given to her last Christmas, when her owl arrived.

She set the book aside and excitedly unrolled the parchment.

_Bloody hell, you have to elaborate more. This isn't some mere note passing in school._

_R.A.B._

Hermione snorted at his snarky reply, imagining his smirky face whilst penning this letter. She noted that he didn't write her name, which was good. If ever the letter was intercepted, then no one would speculate that he and a Half-Blood Ravenclaw were brewing a plan to overthrow the Dark Lord.

She quickly grabbed another spare parchment from her table and wrote down her reply.

_The Cup is most likely inside the Lestrange's Vault. I was hoping with your connection to the Lestranges, procuring it would be an easy task._

_H.P._

"I'm sorry, Toffee," she said, sheepishly smiling at the family owl as she tied the letter around her foot. Their small, tawny owl hooted in understanding and affectionately nipped Hermione's finger, before flying out of the window once more.

**-ooo-**

' _Easy task'? Biggest understatement of the century. The Lestranges are famously known for their paranoia. Their Gringotts vault is heavily warded. I'm not sure if the rumours are true, but they said there's an actual dragon guarding their treasures. With the addition of my crazy cousin to their family, the paranoia had increased ten-fold._

 _So no, HP, procuring it is_ _not_ _an easy task at all._

_R.A.B._

Hermione sighed in disappointment, but she'd expected this anyway. Even though she had Regulus as an ally, she knew getting the Cup would be really difficult. But amongst the other four remaining horcruxes, this one seemed the most feasible to get as of the moment. Riddle's diary was still most likely housed in Malfoy Manor. Hermione's head was still filled with Bellatrix Lestrange's torture in the drawing room of said house, and no matter how many times she tried to come up with a concrete plan to get the diary, Hermione always ended up balking and shaking with fear. Slytherin's locket may still be in Voldemort's possession and not hidden in the Cave Harry had described to her. The Gaunt ring, although perhaps easy to procure too, may be the most dangerous of them all. She remembered the unforgiving curse the ring had bestowed upon one of the greatest wizards the world had ever known. Hermione really wanted to get the ring, but only when she had already figured out how to destroy the horcruxes.

Thus, Hufflepuff's Cup was left.

Hermione grimaced as she pulled another parchment and wrote down her reply.

_I thought as much._

_Quick question: is the Black family vault as heavily guarded as the Lestrange family vault?_

_H.P._

**-ooo-**

Instead of toffee sitting on her windowsill that night, a proud, sooty owl hooted at her in greeting.

"Oh, hello, Mercury," she said, smiling warmly at the dark, beady eyes of Regulus's owl.

Mercury hooted once more and stuck out his foot, waiting for Hermione to untie the parchment around his leg.

_Your blasted owl refuses to send any more letters. I'm forced to use my owl instead._

_As for your question, yes, of course. Why do you ask? Is my family vault also housing a you-know-what? Please don't tell me our vault is also housing a you-know-what._

_R.A.B._

Hermione grinned, imagining the panic the Black heir may have been feeling whilst writing this letter. Now that she properly knew who he truly was and whose side he was really on, Hermione couldn't help but think that Regulus Black was easily flustered and quite emotive. Very much like his older brother - only Sirius had no qualms about hiding what he truly felt to the whole world.

Her smile turned forlorn as she brushed her thumb across his initials. Being a Black heir must be really sad. No wonder Sirius always proclaimed running away from his family was the best decision he'd ever made in his whole life.

Hermione sat down at her desk once more to pen her reply.

_No, your family vault is not housing a you-know-what. We just need it for my plan to work._

_If I were you, I'd go to the Black family vault as soon as possible and tell the goblins you have to withdraw a hefty amount of galleons. Maybe a prized treasure too. Tell them your mother's birthday is coming up and you want to give her something grand._

_After doing so, tell me in detail what happened as you ride that blasted cart to reach your vault._

_H.P._

_P.S. Do you have any means of getting a strand of Bellatrix Lestrange's hair?_

She smiled kindly at Mercury and tied the parchment to his feet. "Don't accept any letters from your master tonight," she cooed, brushing a finger on top of his feathery head. The owl hooted appreciatively before spreading out his wings and flying out of her window, blending perfectly with the night sky.

* * *

**June 18, 1978**

Hermione's eyes broke away from her Arithmancy textbook when her bedroom door burst open. In came an exhausted Peter, whose face looked weary and gaunt. His blue eyes were lacklustre and there was a huge gash on his cheek. The dark moons under his eyes were stark against his pale face.

The brunette quirked an eyebrow when Peter plopped down on her bed, face first. "Welcome back," she said, smiling amusedly at his dishevelled appearance.

"They're putting us to work like a bloody horse," Peter cried, his voice muffled by Hermione's fluffy pillow. "We're not even official Aurors yet."

Her smile turned sympathetic. "In just a few months, you will be," she reassured. "Just hang in there, Petey."

Her brother expelled a humongous sigh and rolled supine on her bed. "Even James and Sirius are having a hard time. And they're _better_ than me," he said with a flourished eye roll. "Sirius almost quit last night – and would have, if James hadn't talked some sense into him. James actually looks like he'll be a great Auror; Moody says so. Have you _seen_ Mad-Eye Moody? Merlin, Hermione, he's as terrifying as a Hungarian Horntail. Best Auror DMLE has ever seen, people say. Bloody paranoid too, if you ask me. He's always shouting _'Constant vigilance!'_ if a spell hits us during training."

Hermione fondly remembered the same cranky Auror she'd known in the future, his persistently spinning eye piercing everyone in the room until they were forced to look away. She was quite sure he still had two, good eyes today, though.

Her eyes then landed on her exhausted brother, the same pride she'd felt when they found out he passed his NEWTs and was subsequently accepted for Auror training once again blooming in her chest. The corners of her lips twitched, remembering how Peter had unabashedly cried in front of her and their mother, loudly proclaiming he couldn't believe he'd actually made it.

" _Of course you'd make it!"_ Hermione had cried back then. _"Why did you even doubt yourself?"_

James and Sirius were accepted, too, their grades predictably much better than Peter's. Nonetheless, the three Marauders were happy they were actually pursuing one of their childhood dreams.

"James asked me to give this to you," Peter then said, bringing her attention back to him. He was extending a rolled parchment in her direction. "Bloody wanker threatened to hex my ballsacks off if I tried to even peek at whatever he'd written there." The wizard wrinkled his nose in disgust, eyeing the letter warily. "As if I'm interested in what disgusting things he'd like to say to you."

Her cheeks flushed red as she hastily grabbed the letter from Peter. She threw him a glare when he gagged, before grabbing one of her fluffy pillows and burying his head again. "Go sleep in your own room, you berk," she complained.

"Can't move, sorry," he mumbled under his breath and snuggled deeper into her pillow.

Hermione sighed and shook her head. She then glanced at James's letter and felt her heart thud in excitement. She hadn't seen him since their graduation, and she'd be lying if she said she didn't miss him at all. He'd been swamped with Auror training, because really, they were being worked like a horse. Peter had rarely come home for the past few days, opting to sleep at the ministry, especially since he'd have to get back to work at precisely five in the morning the next day. Hermione was just relieved the boys were still continuing to pursue their dreams despite how difficult it was.

She unrolled the parchment and smiled at his familiar handwriting.

_Hermione,_

_Has it really been weeks? It feels like ages since the last time I saw you! How are you? I hope you're not devouring your textbooks even before the start of school. Merlin, be kind to yourself too and have a well-deserved rest._

_Speaking of rest, bloody Merlin help us all but we haven't properly slept in days. Pads wanted to quit so bad because Moody's been hounding on and on about the importance of punctuality and respect. You know how Sirius struggles with authority, rebel disinherited Pureblood heir and all. Wormy's a bit better. Moody's extra harder on him, and I think Peter feels like he's not doing well enough, but honestly, I think he's doing great! You should have seen him during our Concealment and Disguise lessons. Being a small Animagus definitely has its own perks. Moody always has a hard time searching for Peter when he's in his rat form._

_Have you gotten your Hogwarts letter yet? I bet you're appointed as the Head Girl in your year. Hogwarts will surely crumble under your leadership with an iron fist. Tell me immediately who the Head Boy is, yeah? If it's a slimy Slytherin, I might be forced to have a word with Dumbledore._

_I really miss you, Whiskers. I haven't had a proper snog in days. DAYS. I don't know if I can live any longer without your kiss._

_See you soon._

_Love,  
James_

Her mouth ran dry as she ran her fingers over his signature, her eyes lingering a bit on the word 'love'.

Despite the distance, Hermione was terrified at thought that her feelings for James Potter were steadily growing. NEWTs had passed and the seventh years had already graduated, but Lily and James were still not in love. Lily was having a blast flipping Spinner's End around until it was cozy and warm and so full of love. James was already writing letters to her with the word 'love' casually written like it wasn't a big deal. Like… like he actually meant it.

James hadn't told her he loved her yet, but she had this inkling it would be soon. _So_ very soon. She'd seen his eyes after he'd kissed the daylights out of her, how they were the warmest brown filled with feelings Hermione had never seen a man give her before. She thought she'd seen them in Ron's eyes, but their romantic relationship was tragically brief before she could fully understand what he had been feeling.

It disturbed Hermione, however, because every time she pondered on her feelings for James, she wasn't sure if it could simply be described as _like_. She liked him very much, surely. He made her days brighter with his eyes and his lopsided smile. But it felt like it wasn't enough to call her feelings as such. James made her feel like she was the only thing that mattered in this world. It was terrifying and breath-taking at the same time, because it made her feel important. It made her feel that she could do anything, _everything_ , just as long as he continued to look at her like that, with so much certainty and trust.

And the simple fact was, she wanted him to feel the same way too. Like he was the only thing that mattered in this world. To hell with Voldemort, or Hermione Granger or… or _Harry Potter_.

Hermione took a sharp intake of breath, her fingers stilling over the word 'love' once more. Guilt sneaked up from the pit of her stomach and snaked around her heart, stealing whatever lovely feelings she was developing for James Potter.

"You all right, Hermione?"

She blinked away her panic and stared at her brother, who was now peeking at her over her pillow.

"Yeah," she said with a nervous laugh, mentally dispelling whatever distressing thoughts she had brewing in her mind.

Hermione briefly glanced back at James's letter and swallowed down her panic. The pads of her thumb brushed over the word 'love' once more and she asked, almost absentmindedly, "Do you need to go to the ministry tomorrow?"

Peter shifted on her bed so that he could fully look at her. "No," he replied. "Moody gave all the Auror interns a day-off tomorrow. Something about recharging the magical battery and all that shite." He chuckled when a small smile appeared on Hermione's face. "Why do you ask?"

"Do you think—" She paused, frowning a bit, uncertain if she was doing the right thing. "Do you think it'd be okay if I invited James over for dinner tomorrow?"

Hermione's cheeks flushed when she glanced back at her brother. Peter wore a pensive look on his face, pulling himself up from Hermione's bed to sit on the very edge.

"James would be over the moon, I'm sure," he said, a small laugh escaping from his lips.

"And Mum," she added.

"I think it'll be okay, 'Mione," Peter said. "More than okay, in fact." A smile appeared on his face, almost looking sad and happy at the same time. "You really like James, don't you? I was hesitant at first because I thought he was just trying to use you to get to Lily. I mean, you know how persistent he can get, using any means to get what he wants. But after seeing how he treated you in the last month… well..." His cheeks turned red as he shyly scratched his chin. "He's very sweet to you, Hermione."

"Did he pass the sibling test?" she teased with a wide grin.

"With flying colours," Peter joked, followed by a boisterous laugh.

Hermione turned back to her desk and pulled out a spare parchment and her turkey quill. "We have to tell Mum to take it easy again this time," she pointed out, already imagining how Anya's blue eyes would sparkle with excitement.

Before Peter could answer, Regulus's greater sooty owl flew against her window and politely tapped against the glass.

The brunette excitedly ripped her window open and let him land elegantly on her wooden desk.

"Whose owl is that?" Peter's eyebrows were knitted at the middle. "He seems awfully familiar…"

Hermione's eyes widened in mild panic. All hell would surely break loose if Peter discovered she was corresponding with Regulus Black, of all people. "Dorothy's," she immediately lied, hastily untying the parchment wrapped around Mercury's leg.

"Who?"

She glanced over her shoulder. "Dorothy Boot," she expounded. When Peter blankly stared at her, she merely laughed. "Never mind that."

Peter stood up from her bed and stretched his arms overhead. "I'm going to take a nap in my room," he said, seemingly dropping the subject. "Wake me up when it's dinnertime already."

"You're tasked to do the dishes this time," she pointed out.

Her brother made a face. "Year-long supply of toffees?" he offered, an hopeful smile on his face.

"That's what I thought," she said with a laugh.

Peter snorted and turned on his heel, leaving Hermione alone in her bedroom.

Once he was gone, Hermione hastily opened Regulus's letter, eager to know what it contained.

 _I went to Gringotts yesterday to do what you told me to do, even though I have no idea what you're planning. The goblins were dubious with my sudden demand for a lot of galleons_ and _a prized Black treasure. Bloody menaces even activated this waterfall – Thief's Downfall, was what they called it. It drenched me to the bone and ruined my expensive robes. They said it was mandatory to activate if a patron requests to withdraw a large amount of money. I told them my father will hear about it, of course. I'm the_ Black heir _, for Merlin's sake. Why the hell would they suspect me?_

_Why do you need a strand of my cousin's hair? I can procure it, if you must know. There is a guest room in Grimmauld where Bella usually sleeps when she comes over. I perused around it a while ago and saw a hairbrush with strands of her hair._

_R.A.B._

Hermione was beaming by the end of Regulus's letter. As expected, it was mighty suspicious for Regulus to suddenly request to withdraw a huge amount of money – enough to let the goblins activate the Thief's Downfall. She knew it wouldn't be activated at all if the goblins did not suspect any possible thievery. Admittedly, her impersonation of Bellatrix Lestrange may be atrocious, and Hermione highly doubted she'd be able to play her perfectly again. But, if the only one to get inside a highly guarded vault was to _become_ one of the people she loathed with her very being, then Hermione really had no choice. Now that she had Regulus by her side, Hermione had this inkling the outcome of this coming heist would be successful, only with less wand waving and dragon riding drama.

Hermione then eagerly dipped the nib of her turkey quill in her inkwell to pen her reply to Regulus.

 _Everything's going according to plan. You don't have to worry. Is it possible for you to meet with me at Diagon Alley on the 20_ _th_ _of July? We're going to break into Gringotts._

_Make sure to bring a strand of hair from your cousin. Make sure it's her hair and not a cat's or any other pets you have at home. Make sure to also bring a spare dress that belongs to her._

_Meet me at Diagon Alley at 9 am. Sound good?_

_H.P._

Satisfied with her reply, Hermione beckoned Mercury closer and tied the letter around his claw. She then gave him a few treats from a small pouch on her desk, before he flew away.

Once Mercury was merely a dot in the horizon, she grabbed another spare parchment to pen her reply for James.

_James,_

_Contrary to popular belief, I'm not 'devouring' any textbooks this summer. I took Remus' suggestion to take it easy this time since it'll be NEWTs year for me and I need all the energy I can get._

_It sounds like Auror training's been exhausting. Peter's been moving around the house like an inferi for days. Mum's growing worried. Take as much rest as you can! I've heard loads about Mad-Eye Moody and if anything, he's rigorous and paranoid._

_Peter also said you have a day-off tomorrow. Maybe you'd like to come over and have dinner with us? Mum will be happy if you do._

_I miss you too. Very much._

Her turkey quill hovered at the end, debating how she'd conclude her letter. Her black ink was already making a messy splatter on the parchment.

Arriving at a decision, Hermione banished the ink blots on her parchment with a wave of her wand and merely signed the letter with her name.

"Toffee," she called. The owl landed primly beside Hermione and without being told, she stuck out her leg, waiting for her mistress to tie the parchment.

"Take this to James in the Potter Manor, all right?" The owl hooted happily and flew outside her window.

**-ooo-**

_WHAT THE HELL DID YOU MEAN WHEN YOU SAID BREAK INTO GRINGOTTS? ARE YOU MAD?_

_R.A.B._

_P.S. I'm free on July 20 but I still have no fucking clue what your plan is. If I don't get out of Diagon Alley alive, I'm going to haunt you in the afterlife. Forever._

Hermione snorted at Regulus's letter and quickly replied that yes, she meant what she had said about breaking into Gringotts and no, she wasn't mad. She tied the letter around Mercury's leg and bid him goodbye, before she strolled out of her bedroom.

A quick look at her wristwatch said she only had twenty minutes before her supposed visit to Spinner's End. Lily had been begging her for days to come over, just so she could show her her handiwork. Hermione was curious to see what she had done, even asking her for some details, but Lily refused to say anything and wanted Hermione to see for it herself.

"Going somewhere, sweetheart?" Anya asked, as she bustled out of the kitchen, her worn apron strung around her thin waist.

"I'm going to visit Lily and Sev," she answered with a smile. "I'll be back before dinner, Mum."

"Peter's already home?"

Hermione laughed. "He's snoring like a stampeding hippogriff in his room," she replied. Upon seeing her mother's look, she kindly smiled and wound her arms around Anya's waist. "Don't worry about him, Mum. James said he'd been doing great in his Auror training."

"Did he now?" Anya said, a proud smile blooming on her pretty face.

"Speaking of James…" Hermione shyly smiled at her mother and pulled away. "You don't mind if I invited him over for dinner tomorrow?"

As predicted, Anya's eyes looked like stars in the night sky. "Of course I don't mind!" she exclaimed happily. "Oh, what does James like? Chicken or beef? Perhaps some pumpkin juice? Or maybe he's the butterbeer kind of bloke? What desserts does he like?"

"Mum," Hermione cried, laughing exasperatedly at her mother's excited twittering. "Please, don't overdo yourself. It's just _James_. He eats everything, honestly. Well, he's very fond of treacle tarts, though, and pumpkin juice."

"All right, I'll make sure to bake enough treacle tarts to last him a lifetime." Anya burst into soft laughs when Hermione stared at her incredulously. "Oh, love, of course your mother's exaggerating. Go have fun with your friends now. Send my love to both Lily and Sev. Tell Severus to eat more! I saw him during their graduation and he almost looked like a skeleton to me."

Hermione placed a kiss on her mother's cheek. "Will do, Mum," she said. "Goodbye. I love you."

Anya smiled warmly at her daughter and brushed a few strands away from her face. "I love you too, sweetheart," she fondly replied.

She then strode towards their fireplace and grabbed a handful of floo powder. She threw it inside the fireplace and waited for the flames to turn emerald green. She then stepped inside and exclaimed, "Number 7 Spinner's End, Cokeworth!"

The familiar sensation of travelling through floo slammed against Hermione's chest, knocking the breath out of her. She held her breath to keep the soot from going inside her nostrils.

The uncomfortable travel soon ended and Hermione stepped out from the fireplace, deftly brushing the soot off her shoulders.

"Hermione!"

Hermione glanced away from her shoulders to greet Lily with a smile, but then, her jaw dropped at the image before her.

She clearly remembered the peeling walls and dilapidated ceiling, and the depressing couch where Sev had fallen asleep the last time they'd visited him for his mother's funeral. Gone where all those things and Hermione felt like she'd stepped into a very homely cottage, with pale-pink floral wallpapers and wooden floorboards. There was a long, grey couch in front of the roaring hearth, with two, white armchairs placed on opposite sides. There were lilies _everywhere_ – hanging near the small wall lamp, on the coffee table and displayed on the windowsills. Sev's handsome bookshelves were still in their previous place, only this time Lily had placed various moving photographs of her and Sev, sometimes including Hermione, and even various pictures of Lily and her friends and her family.

The whole house was a far cry from the dreary house she'd seen before. Gone were the obvious signs of neglect and loneliness, instead replaced by pieces of furniture and displays that were obviously chosen with much thought and love.

"Do you like it?" Lily asked, her cheeks colouring at Hermione's staring.

"Lily it's… it's _beautiful_ ," Hermione breathed out.

Lily laughed and crossed the room to reach Hermione. "That's not the best part," she said, excitedly dragging Hermione out of the small house.

Hermione half-expected the wrought-iron, prison-like gates to greet her eyes. Instead, the metal gates were painted white, slithering vines wrapping around each individual bar with small, blooming, pink flowers cheerily fluttering in the wind.

The whole house looked out-of-place amongst the dreary, identical brick wall houses of Spinner's End.

"It's lovely, Lily," she gushed out again, glancing back at the beaming redhead.

"She Lily-fied the whole house," Severus's tired voice claimed as he stepped out of the house and stood behind Lily.

"I made it _prettier_ ," she corrected, smiling warmly when Sev placed a hand on top of her shoulder.

Hermione smiled at the wizard and noted there were dark bags under his eyes once more. His hair was brushed neatly behind his ears, cut shorter than the last time she'd seen him. Despite his exhausted demeanour, Severus looked well. _Very_ well, in fact, like he'd been well-loved and well-fed. The brunette bit her bottom lip, stopping herself from cheekily blurting out that he had been _Lily-fied_ too.

"Come inside," Lily then ushered, looping her arm around Hermione's and pulling her inside. "Besides training as an Unspeakable, I started learning how to bake!" She led Hermione into a small kitchen with a small, white, round table and four, white stools. Lily happily gestured at the cake proudly displayed on the table. "It's a sticky toffee cake. It's not perfect yet; Sev did say the sponge cake is a bit soggy."

"A bit is a huge understatement," Sev murmured, earning him a playful smack across his chest.

Hermione laughed and settled down on the stool, immediately slicing a piece of the cake to place it on her plate. "How's training as an Unspeakable?" she asked Lily.

The redhead expelled a soft sigh and leant her chin on her upturned palm. "Hard, as expected," she said. "Quite complicated too! Half of the time, I never understand what the Senior Unspeakables are talking about. But I'm determined to learn. It's a really interesting field. The books you gave me have been quite helpful, but honestly? There's so much more about being an Unspeakable than prophecies and ancient rituals and…" She trailed off and sheepishly smiled. "But then, of course, I shouldn't say anything about it. First rule of being an Unspeakable is to never say anything to others about being an Unspeakable."

"I'm sure as a chatterbox, it takes a tremendous effort to do so," Hermione teased.

Lily playfully glowered and brushed her hair away from her face. "I'm _trying_ my best," she petulantly said. "Besides, one of the senior Unspeakable said I have so much potential. That's already saying something."

"Of course you have so much potential! You graduated top of your class!" Hermione exclaimed with an impassioned tone.

The redhead grinned as a blush bloomed on her cheeks. "Thanks, Hermione," she said, shyly brushing her silky, red hair away from her face again.

"And you?" she asked, her gaze now landing on the wizard beside Lily. "How's your apprenticeship with Slughorn?"

Severus deftly shrugged. "It just feels like I'm working on a huge project," he said.

"Will you start teaching Potions next school-year?"

"Unfortunately, not yet," he said. "Slughorn wanted to teach me for another year until I get my Masters Potion degree. He might let me assist in his classes, though." Severus threw her a wicked smirk. "I can't wait to start deducting points from grubby, little children."

Hermione snorted, remembering the bully Potions Professor she and her classmates had endured for six years. "If you reign terror over the students, I'm going to kick your arse," she threatened.

"You're Head Girl?" he assumed.

"I still haven't gotten my Hogwarts letter," she replied with a laugh. "Regardless - if I hold a position or not next school-year, I'm still going to kick your arse."

"Resorting to violence, as always," Sev said, the corner of his mouth twitching into a small smile.

"You're going to be Head Girl, I'm sure," Lily said, as she batted her red hair away from her face for the umpteenth time. Hermione frowned and distractedly watched her hand, wondering why she kept on fidgeting with her hair when it was impeccable. "Everybody knows the brightest witch of her age will be appointed as one."

"We don't know that for sure," she insisted, watching keenly as Lily tucked a red strand behind her ear. At the same time, the cheery light from the small, wall lamp in their kitchen struck something shiny on Lily's finger, momentarily illuminating Hermione's fork poised mid-air.

Realising what had caused it, Hermione's fork slipped from her hand and clattered loudly on the plate.

"And she notices it at last," Sev said with a smirk, thinly-veiled amusement in his eyes.

Hermione shot forward and grabbed onto Lily's left hand and gaped at the ring on her finger. Two gold bands entwined like vines, enveloping Lily's finger with three, rubies sprouting like roses. It was beautiful, something Lily would have truly loved.

When Hermione looked back at Lily, her vision swam as tears filled her eyes. "Really?" she breathlessly expelled.

Lily vigorously nodded her head, tears also in her eyes. "Yes, really," she said with a lovely laugh.

Hermione shot up from her stool so quick it toppled over. She jogged towards her best friends and drew them both into a tight hug, shamelessly crying her eyes out at the news they were going to get married soon.

"Merlin, why are you sobbing like that?" Sev asked, the smile on his face uncharacteristic and light.

Lily was already sniffling too as she wound both of her arms around Hermione's neck. "We want you to be my maid of honour, Hermione," she declared.

The younger witch swiped her tears away from her face and glanced at Lily in shock. "Me?" she asked.

"I don't know why you're so shocked about it," Lily said, laughing incredulously at Hermione's genuine disbelief. "I don't have a good relationship with my sister and Sev's an only child. _You_ are our best friend, so you're our choice by default."

More tears tumbled out of Hermione's eyes as her bottom lip trembled. "I'd be honoured," she finally said.

Lily's green eyes lit up in delight as she shot up from her seat to properly envelop Hermione into a huge hug. "Oh, I don't know why I doubted whether you'd agree to it either," she said with a chuckle. Her arms tightened around the young brunette. "We plan to get married after you graduate, of course. There's plenty of time to prepare. By then, I'll be an Unspeakable and Sev will be the new Potions professor."

Hermione took a mighty sniff and reached out for Sev's hand. The wizard, whose face had considerably softened with warmth and happiness, grasped her hand and gave it a tender squeeze. "I'm so happy for you both."

**-ooo-**

Hermione was relieved that neither Peter nor Anya were able to notice her return. After shedding a few more tears in Lily and Sev's house, Hermione had bid them a hasty goodbye, as the implication of their marriage finally settled in.

Tears still blurred Hermione's vision as she meandered through their living room, tore the front door open, and collapsed messily on their front porch. The image of Lily and Sev's wide, blinding smiles haunted her memory, as if mocking the huge possibility that Harry Potter might not be born at all. Harry Potter who had emerald eyes – _Lily's_ eyes. It wouldn't be the same if Lily and Sev had a child, because his face would be all wrong.

The grief washed over her like a huge tidal wave. Hermione pressed a hand against her lips to stifle her sobs, not wanting to alert anyone to her anguished cries.

' _I'm sorry, Harry,'_ she mourned internally. _'I'm so sorry. I tried my best. I'm so sorry.'_

Memories of her Harry, running through the corridors of Hogwarts with wide, bright, emerald eyes resurfaced in her mind. She remembered all the times when Harry had been the one with tears in his eyes, mourning for the heavy losses no child should ever undergo. She remembered Harry, brave and ferocious like a mighty lion, charging through the foray of blood and smoke and dust and spells, still determined to bring Voldemort down and to end all the misery he had cast over the Wizarding World. And she remembered Harry, inhaling his very last breath, looking at her like she was the one thing that had mattered to him the most, before life was stolen from him, before he could even become happy, _truly_ happy in this world.

And now… _now_ , he would never get the chance to be happy, because he wouldn't exist at all. Or, if ever he would, she was sure it wouldn't be _him._ She was infinitely happy for Lily and Sev. Truly, the feelings that had rushed through her when they had broken the news of their upcoming marriage, had brought out all happy emotions in Hermione's heart.

Hermione bent over and heaved huge sobs, her hand pressed against her lips - her only barrier from making loud, anguished noises. _'I'm sorry, Harry.'_

"Hermione?"

A gasp escaped from her lips as her shoulders tensed. Even without turning around, she heard the worry in Peter's words.

"Hermione? What are you doing over there?" She heard his shuffling footsteps until he lowered himself down beside her.

Peter bent forward to peer at her face, blue eyes growing wide upon noticing the tears in her eyes. "What's wrong?" he asked, growing panicky. "Did something happen? With Lily? Snape?"

She hastily wiped her tears and away and swallowed down a sob, forcing herself to shakily smile at Peter. Judging from the way he grimaced, she knew she'd failed spectacularly. "I– It's…" She paused and took a few shaky breaths before continuing. "They're getting married. Lily and Sev."

"That's brilliant!" Peter exclaimed, looking earnestly happy. "I mean, I still hate that slimy git but he and Lily are good together." The smile on his face faltered as he glanced at her tears once more. "Those are tears of happiness, I hope?"

A watery chuckled escaped from her lips as she continued swiping her unending tears. "Of course," she whispered, ignoring how her heart clenched at the truthfulness of her feelings.

"It doesn't look like it, though," Peter pointed out matter-of-factly.

Hermione looked away from his piercing gaze and sighed. She felt like she was betraying Harry by being happy for her best friends. Harry was supposed to live, supposed to have a brilliant life because he, of all people, deserved it. But with his green eyes gone, there would be no Harry Potter.

Peter then shifted beside her and drew her into a tight hug. "I'm sure if they've already built a family, they won't cut you off," he said, patting her back in comfort. "If they truly love you, of course they'll let you in." He pulled slightly away from Hermione and looked at her in amusement. "I mean, I don't understand why you're _miserable_ they're getting married. Don't tell me you've been harbouring a secret love for Snape all these years?"

Hermione made a face. "Ew, no, of course not," she said.

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Lily?"

A laugh bubbled out of her lips despite her tears. "And risk getting glowered at by the sourpuss for the rest of my life?" she jested.

"Then why are you _sad_?" he asked exasperatedly.

"I'm not," she said, glancing away from Peter's bright, blue eyes. "It's just—" Words failed her, unable to form anything coherent to give as an excuse.

She thought of Harry Potter once more, who'd been selflessly giving himself, piece by piece every day, just to make this world a better place.

When Peter pulled her into another hug, Hermione closed her eyes and imagined her Harry and what he might have said if he'd discovered that Lily Evans was going to marry another.

"If Mum is happy, then I'm happy too," he would say.

This brought a small, sad smile on Hermione's face, because she knew that if Harry was given a choice between letting his parents love other people rather than each other or for him to _live_ , Harry would undoubtedly choose the former.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all those who greeted me!
> 
> I know some of you are getting a bit frustrated with Hermione's adamant insistence that Harry Potter must be born as the Harry Potter she knew – black, dishevelled hair and emerald eyes – and I completely understand. But I really, honestly think Hermione will have a hard time letting Harry go. It's in Hermione's character to put Harry first – she went with him during the horcrux hunt, getting herself in danger just to keep Harry safe - so I'm sure she'll be very devastated to know that the Harry she once loved and knew will be nonexistent or different all together. Hahahaha I think I've made it clear that this is one of Hermione's main dilemma in the whole story – letting go of her past or living in the present.
> 
> Like I said, slow burn-y – romance and plot-wise – because Hermione needed to properly grieve and accept her present.
> 
> ACK, so I'll stop now before I spill out ALL of my future plans lmao. I wasn't even sure if I should explain myself ahahahah but yeah.
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes!)


	31. chapter thirty

* * *

**xxx.**

_**it was a pretty good bad idea, wasn't it though?** _

(Bad Idea by Sara Bareilles feat. Jason Mraz)

* * *

**July 19, 1978**

_I've procured my cousin's hair and have stolen a dress. Will you tell me what your plan is now?_

_I'll meet you at the alley behind Flourish and Blotts at 9 am._

_R.A.B._

Hermione smiled, imagining how Regulus might already be going ballistic at her deliberate vagueness. She hoped he understood they should keep their conversation about the horcrux hunt to a minimum. During her other timeline, there had been numerous cases of intercepted letters by both the ministry and Death Eaters. Hermione was afraid that the same might happen this time, seeing as they were steadily approaching the height of the war.

She grabbed a spare parchment and her turkey quill to pen her reply to Regulus.

_I'll tell you everything tomorrow. I promise._

_Don't worry; everything's going according to plan._

_I'll be there at 9 am. Don't think about this too much tonight. We need all the rest we can get._

_H.P._

Hermione tied the letter to Mercury and watched him fly out of her window, hoping for the best.

**-ooo-**

Although Hermione specifically told Regulus not to worry too much about their excursion tomorrow, the brunette found herself fidgety with nerves all throughout the day. Peter and Anya blessedly mistook her fretting for James's arrival later that night, and had merely exchanged amused glances between themselves and not asked any questions.

Hermione couldn't help but remember their disastrous attempt to break into Gringotts last time and how they were almost caught. If it hadn't have been for the chained dragon, who had abhorred the goblins for years and years of abuse, they might have been captured by Death Eaters and killed right there and then.

She firmly believed that her plan would go smoothly this time, especially because she was going to be accompanied by the Black heir. Still, Hermione couldn't dispel away the nervousness she was feeling.

By three in the afternoon that day, Hermione started to prepare for James's arrival, just so she could distract herself. Anya insisted on choosing Hermione's dress that night, reasoning that she wanted to help her daughter dress up for important moments in her life. Apparently, inviting her boyfriend over to have dinner with the Pettigrew family was deemed important.

Her mother laid down a sleeveless, maroon, floral Gunne sax sundress with a heart-shaped neckline. It was too ribbon-y for Hermione's liking, but she knew she had no choice unless she wanted to face Anya's ire.

Sighing, she removed her current clothes and donned the dress. She had a hard time tying the ribbons on both straps of her dress, to ensure it was secure enough. She tied the other ribbon around her waist, her defining curves starting to develop now that she was turning seventeen soon.

Hermione tentatively walked towards her full-length mirror, dreading what she'd see. 1970's fashion had either been a hit or miss for Hermione, most of which was usually deemed as a resounding 'miss', but so far, her mother had good taste when it came to choosing her daughter's clothes.

Her eyes widened a little as she stared back at the young witch in front of her. Hermione was starting to look like her old self – the old Hermione Granger – save for her blue eyes, of course. But the curves she'd been acquainted with before were now starting to develop on her adolescent body, perfectly hugging the pretty dress Anya had chosen for her.

"Well, you're a sight for sore eyes."

She twirled around and shyly smiled at her mother, whose blue eyes were glittering appreciatively at Hermione's look.

"Isn't it a little too early to prepare?" Anya asked.

Hermione lightly blushed. "I have nothing else to do," she quickly replied.

Anya grinned brightly at the younger witch and walked towards her. "He'll think you're lovely, sweetheart," she said, brushing Hermione's curls away. "There's no need to fret about it."

The brunette snorted lightly, knowing full well that James would have so much fun making her flustered later. Anya reached for her straps and tightened the knot. "We don't want any accidents from happening now, do we?" her mother cheekily asked, quirking an eyebrow when Hermione's cheeks reddened once more.

Anya stayed in her bedroom for a few more hours, trying to tame Hermione's hair until it was as passable as it could get. The Selwyn hair was a force to be reckoned with and the mother and daughter duo had already accepted that it would forever be as wild as their tempers.

Her mother pulled her out of her room when there were only two hours left before James arrived. Hermione distracted herself from her thoughts about the horcrux hunt tomorrow and James's impending arrival by helping Anya prepare their dinner for tonight.

Peter soon joined them, eyes comically widening when his gaze landed on Hermione. "Whoa," he breathed out. Hermione rolled her eyes at his ridiculous reaction, the corner of her lips twitching in amusement. "Maybe _I'm_ a bit underdressed."

"This night isn't about you, love," Anya teased, noting disapprovingly at Peter's Muggle, flared jeans and a random shirt he'd fished out from his cabinet. "There's no need to change."

Six pm was steadily approaching and all thoughts about her mission with Regulus tomorrow were pushed to the very back of her mind. Her nervousness and anticipation for seeing James that night consumed her whole, distracting her all the more. Anya had to shoo her out of the kitchen lest she ruined their dinner for that night, and insisted that she waited in their sitting room for James's arrival.

Although the Potter Manor was connected to their floo, James told her he'd wanted to apparate instead. _"I'm curious about your neighbourhood,"_ he explained in his letter. It was amusing how none of Peter's friends had ever been to their house, even after seven years of solid friendship. Hermione had admittedly never seen where Harry lived, instead spending most of her time at the Burrow. Perhaps Peter knew that since he was best friends with a Pureblood heir, bordering Wizarding Royalty honestly, then there was no point inviting them over to their plain, Muggle home.

Hermione bolted onto her feet when their doorbell rang cheerily. She smoothed down her dress and tried to brush her curls away from her face before taking a mighty breath and approaching the door.

She gingerly opened the door and peeked outside, heart fluttering wildly inside her chest upon seeing James waiting outside. Her mouth ran dry as her eyes scanned his outfit – he had opted to wear Muggle brown corduroys with a matching denim jacket, donned over a plain, white shirt. This was the most Muggle she had seen James, but Merlin, he was still devastatingly attractive. It was mighty unfair.

"Aren't you going to let me in, Whiskers?" he asked, smirking at her blatant staring.

"Right, of course," she said, stepping aside to open the door wider. She brushed an errant curl away from her face and smiled. "Hi."

James's eyes had grown wide, his jaw slackening when Hermione fully stepped outside the door. His eyes almost looked dark brown under the dim light of their quaint street. "Wow— I mean, you look—" He took a sharp intake of breath and strode quickly towards the brunette. Hermione shrank away when he reached behind and grabbed the doorknob, quickly yanking the door closed.

"Why did you—"

Her words were left unheard when James quickly pressed his lips against hers, furiously snogging her until Hermione had no choice but to press against the door behind her, just to keep herself upright. Hermione's arms instantly wound around his neck and she stood on her tiptoes, trying to pull him tighter against herself.

James pulled away almost immediately, much to her disgruntlement. "Holy shite, Hermione," he breathed out. "Why'd you have to wear something like this today?" His hands dangerously hovered over the ribbons tied around her shoulders.

"Um," she started, head still a tad fuzzy from his mad kissing. "Mum chose this dress for me. I really didn't have any choice."

James's eyes darkened as he lowered his lips once more, this time pressing them against the junction between her neck and shoulder. Hermione's breath hitched, her hand crumpling the back material of his denim jacket.

"Holy shite," he whispered again, his warm breath ghosting over her skin. He reluctantly pulled away and was grinning stupidly at Hermione. "I promised to be a proper gentleman today, but Merlin's ballsacks, Hermione. Dinner hasn't started yet and you're already making me lose my mind."

All Hermione could do was stare at him with wide, owlish eyes.

James cupped her cheek and stole another kiss, before he stepped aside and opened the door once more. He invited himself inside, leaving the stunned witch behind.

Hermione quickly snapped out of her hazy stupor and quickly went inside. James was already sharing a joke with her mother, the latter releasing a lovely laugh that brought a smile to Hermione's face. She had never really worried about James and her mother getting along. James had a natural charm which made almost everyone instantly like him, unless of course he decided to show his obnoxious, pompous side first.

Her eyes shifted to Peter, who was pointedly looking at her flushed face. She sheepishly smiled, prompting her brother to make a face and roll his eyes.

**-ooo-**

Dinner had been lovely that night. Hermione hadn't realised how much she had truly missed James, until he spoke about all of his adventures with his friends, as an Auror-in-training. Her eyes never left his form, boisterously laughing over something Sirius had stupidly done or how Moody had punished him, Sirius, and Peter for pulling a harmless prank on him. Her lips stretched wider every time he cracked a joke and would immediately look at her, as if wanting to see if _she'd_ been laughing.

By the time dinner was over, her stomach and heart were full. Anya told Peter he should wash the dishes that night, but her brother had already given her a pleading glance. Hermione rolled her eyes and volunteered to do it instead, much to Anya's disgruntlement.

"This day isn't about you, Peter," Anya admonished once more, but she relented in the end when Peter gave her a smack on her cheek, an apologetic grin on his face.

James trailed behind Hermione when she went towards the kitchen sink. "You can spend time with Peter," she said. "This might take a while. I like to wash the dishes the Muggle way, you know."

He quirked an eyebrow as she donned the worn apron to spare her dress from soap suds and water. "I didn't come over for Peter, Whiskers, honestly," he said, striding behind Hermione to grasp onto the straps of her apron.

She stilled when his warm breath washed over her bare neck as he slowly tied a knot behind her. His hands then rested just at the curve of her hips, his lips a hairsbreadth against her neck. Her heart thudded wildly when he placed the barest of kisses on her exposed skin, sending a pleasant thrill down her spine.

When he placed another kiss, she felt his smirk growing on his face. "James," she lowly warned, her hands tightly gripping onto the kitchen sink.

He laughed softly, puffs of air brushing against her skin, as he finally pulled away and stood beside the brunette. "I forgot how fun it is to make you flustered," he smugly pointed out, noting the red splotches on both of Hermione's cheeks.

"I'm going to _hex_ you," she snapped, but this only made him laugh once more.

"Why do you still want to do the dishes the Muggle way when we have this nifty, little thing called 'magic'?" he then asked, nose wrinkling when he grabbed a freshly washed plate from Hermione's hand and started wiping it with a dry cloth.

"Because, it's fun for me," she simply said. When James tried to reach for another washed plate, she drew it away. "You don't have to help me, James. You're our _guest_ after all. Mum would go ballistic if she saw you helping with my chore."

"Which was supposed to be Peter's," James pointed out matter-of-factly. "We're supposed to be cuddled up on your couch right now, watching those weird moving pictures on that black box thing in your living room."

Hermione grinned. "Peter does his own share of chores," she explained. "But washing the dishes has always been the bane of his existence. Besides, I get a year-long supply of toffee from him if I do it instead."

"Ah, bribery," James said with a laugh. "Very Slytherin of you, Wormy."

She merely shrugged. "It's a win-win for us both," she said.

"Maybe I should call for Pokey to help you finish the dishes and then we can snuggle up on the couch." James waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "What say you, Hermione?"

Her cheeks flushed red as she glowered at him. "What happened to being a proper gentleman tonight?" she hotly replied. "And _no_ , I refuse to ask for help from any house-elf just to finish something I can actually do."

"Pokey would be happy to relieve you from your duties," James said with a chuckle.

"No," she firmly repeated. "Let her rest. I can do it instead."

"Fine," James said with a melodramatic sigh, tugging another dish from Hermione's hand. "Just as long as you promise to give me another proper snog later, then who am I to complain?"

She lightly hit his chest with the pointy end of her elbow. "Berk," she said.

A sudden light tap from the kitchen window drew their attention away from the dishes. Hermione instantly recognised an official Hogwarts owl, who was clutching an envelope between his beak. "Can you get it for me?" she asked, her hands still soaked in soap suds.

James wordlessly nodded his head and swiped his hands clean. In three big strides, he had let the owl in. The owl deposited the envelope on the kitchen counter and hooted his goodbye, swooping out of the window once more, without waiting for a treat.

The bespectacled wizard lifted the envelope from the table and then paused, a huge grin appearing on his face. "It's _heavy_ ," he announced. "You know what that means?"

Her heart thudded in excitement when James tore the wax seal away. He shook the contents of the envelope and a blue, glinting badge slipped out and onto his upturned palm. A laugh escaped from her lips when James made a beeline out of the kitchen and into their living room, loudly proclaiming to her family that she was made Head Girl.

Numerous footsteps shuffled from the living room and before Hermione knew it, two pairs of arms wrapped tightly around her from behind.

"I _knew_ it!" Peter triumphantly exclaimed, boisterously laughing and squeezing Hermione tight. "I always knew you'd become Head Girl from the first moment the Hat Sorted you into Ravenclaw."

"I didn't doubt it one bit," Anya added with a lovely laugh. "I do believe we need to celebrate, don't you think?"

Hermione laughed, genuinely happy that she had been appointed as Head Girl this time. One thing she'd regretted back when she was Hermione Granger was that she had never become Head Girl in her seventh year. Everybody had seemed set on thinking that she would have been appointed. But of course, the horcrux hunt with her best friends had been more important for Hermione. Still, it didn't stop her from wondering how it felt like to be Head Girl.

She peeked over their shoulders to glance at James. He was standing to the side, a brilliant grin on his face. A fond look settled in his hazel eyes and he was no doubt very proud of his girlfriend too.

Hermione lifted her arm, beckoning him closer. "Come join in," she cheekily invited.

James chortled but strode closer, easily enveloping the three as he was the tallest of the lot.

For a moment, there was no war, no horcruxes or evil Dark Lord for Hermione. There were only four of them, in the small kitchen of the Pettigrew family, happy for Hermione's small achievements in her life.

* * *

**July 20, 1978**

"Going somewhere, sweetheart?"

Hermione's shoulders momentarily tensed as she carefully turned on her heel and plastered a fake smile on her face. "I promised Lily and Sev I'd have lunch with them at the Leaky Cauldron," she coolly said, hoping she hadn't sounded nervous at all. "You don't mind at all, Mum?"

"Oh, go have fun with your friends," she said, making a shooing motion with her hand. Then, a delighted smile appeared on her face. "Is it really true they're going to get married? Peter let it slip last night, but I forgot to ask you after we found out you were going to be Head Girl next school-year."

Her fake smile relaxed into a true one. "Yes," she answered. "They wanted to do it after I graduated. They made me their maid-of-honour, you see."

A hand climbed to Anya's heart. "Oh, that's lovely," she said. "I always suspected there was something going on between them, when they came over last summer." Anya beamed wider and brushed a curl away from her face. "Send them my love and congratulations, Hermione."

"Will do, Mum," she said.

Anya then disappeared into the kitchens and the smile on Hermione's face fell. Thankfully, her mother had bought her lie of meeting Sev and Lily. Now that she was alone with her thoughts, the nervousness of what today implicated came back to her in full force.

Hermione wiped her clammy hands against her denim jeans, before grabbing a handful of floo powder from a small pouch. She threw it into the fireplace, waited for the familiar emerald green fire, before stepping inside and proclaiming loudly, "Leaky Cauldron!"

She reappeared almost immediately in the dingy Leaky Cauldron and didn't even spare a glance at the patrons inside. Hermione strode out of the pub and towards the brick wall entrance of Diagon Alley, before tapping the necessary bricks. She waited for the wall to open and let her in.

As soon as she stepped foot inside Diagon Alley, Hermione hid behind a dark alleyway and changed into her Animagus form. Searching for Regulus would be better if no one remembered her in the hours prior to their supposed break-in at Gringotts.

Hermione slinked through the crowd, dodging bustling witches and wizards, until finally spotting Flourish and Blotts. She slid behind the bustling bookshop and spotted Regulus almost immediately. Even from this height, Hermione could see how tense he was. His jaw was tightly set and his mercurial eyes almost looked steely like ice. He was leaning against the brick wall and kept on scanning the empty alley, waiting for Hermione to arrive.

The brunette then noiselessly changed into her human form, prompting Regulus to swear in surprise. She sheepishly smiled in greeting when he glowered at her.

"Some warning next time, Pettigrew," he growled. But then, he realised she had just transformed from being a _cat_ and gaped. "Hold on a minute. Are you an _Animagus_?"

Hermione was unfazed by his bewilderment. "Yes," she simply said.

"Are you registered?" he asked, his eyes now narrowing in suspicion.

The corner of her mouth twitched in amusement. "No," she replied in return.

Regulus swore under his breath once more. "Sweet Salazar, and here I thought I was over getting blindsided by you and your bloody skills," he grumbled.

"Did you bring the hair? The robes?" Hermione asked, ignoring his comment and striding towards him.

"Yes," he clipped. "Care to tell me what the plan is _now_? You never replied to my last letter when you casually said we're going to" – he leaned closer and frowned – " _break into_ Gringotts."

Hermione sighed and pulled out a potion from her pockets. She lifted the vial in the air, filled with sloshing mud-coloured liquid and small, foaming bubbles. "This is the plan," she said.

"Polyjuice Potion?" he asked, clearly surprised at her revelation. Realisation dawned on his face as he pulled out a black robe and a few strands of hair enclosed inside a plastic bag. "Well, now that explains why you wanted me to bring these." Regulus suddenly looked uncertain. "Are you sure about this? Gringotts is one of the most highly warded establishments in the whole Wizarding World. If we get caught, we'll be placed in Azkaban almost immediately."

" _I'll_ be the one who gets placed in Azkaban almost immediately. Not you," she corrected. "I'm sure, as the Black heir, your parents will do whatever it takes to put the whole blame on me."

Regulus snorted. "I don't doubt that one bit," he confessed.

"If we _get_ caught, anyway," she quickly added. "Which will never happen. Because my plan's _fool-proof_."

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Your certainty astounds me," he pointed out, torn between looking at her as if she was barmy or terrifying. "How can you say that?"

' _Because I've done this before,'_ she thought to herself, but didn't bother voicing out a reply to his question. Instead, Hermione grabbed onto the dress Regulus had brought. "Turn around," she ordered.

A small smirk now grew on his face, prompting Hermione to blush. "Turn around, you berk," she repeated once more. "Unless you want to be on the receiving end of my famous Bat-Bogey Hex?"

Regulus chuckled. "Bloody hell, Pettigrew, you were absolutely terrifying that day," he praised. "Potter definitely deserved that."

"That was years ago, Merlin," she murmured under her breath. Thankfully, Regulus turned around and faced the wall like a proper gentleman.

Hermione quickly stripped; her eyes still trained intently on Regulus, lest he took a peek. She then donned Bellatrix's dress and smoothed out the creases, grimacing at how ill-fitting the proper Pureblood socialite's dress robes were on her thin frame. Bellatrix of 1978 was voluptuous, with full breasts and curvy hips. Bellatrix of 1997 was gaunt and thin, her stint at Azkaban affecting her overall health. Older Bellatrix's dress, by then, had perfectly fit Hermione, who was more slender than curvy.

"I'm decent," she called as she waved her wand and hid her clothes.

When Regulus turned around and snorted at the sight, Hermione's cheeks reddened. "Shut up," she grumbled, ripping the plastic bag open and grabbing onto the hair strands. She popped the cork open, but before she placed the hair inside, she glowered at Regulus. "You're positively sure this is your cousin's hair? Not some – _Merlin forbid_ – cat's?"

She shivered at the memory of turning into one accidentally, the mortification still weighing heavily on her shoulders. Ron and Harry used to tease Hermione about it, although she had made it perfectly clear that it was one memory she'd rather be buried away.

"We have no pets," Regulus assured, eyes glinting in amusement. "Mother forbids it. My bro — Sirius once smuggled a puppy in when he was nine and got an earful after that."

Hermione grimly pursed her lips and eyed the long strand of curly hair warily. It would have been better if Regulus had gotten the hair from Bellatrix herself, but she really couldn't complain now.

She placed the hair inside the potion and watched as it hissed menacingly before turning into a reddish-purple liquid. "Lovely," she muttered, nose scrunching up at the sight. Apparently, Bellatrix's Polyjuice Potion would still turn into a sickly shade of colour. At least, Hermione could be more confident that it was really her hair that was inside.

"Bottom's up," she said, lifting the vial up before taking a few, large gulps. Hermione gagged, swearing that it still tasted like bloody gurdyroots, before her skin rippled and bubbled. Hermione felt herself gaining a few more inches, her body shifting until the stuffy, Pureblood dress robes perfectly hugged her newly-curvy body.

Regulus watched with morbid fascination until her transformation into Bellatrix Lestrange had finished.

Hermione blinked and glanced at her hand. Her fingers were longer and paler, smoother too, as if they belonged to a true Pureblood witch.

"Please tell me it worked," she said.

Regulus looked highly disturbed at hearing Hermione's voice. "Yes, most definitely," he said, paling a bit as he surveyed her face. "You look like her, all right."

The brunette sighed in relief and hastily walked towards a small window with a dirtied glass pane. She peeked at herself and was surprised at how beautiful Bellatrix Lestrange of 1978 looked. Her grey eyes still looked piercing and cold, but her cheeks were smooth and full. Hermione bared her teeth and was relieved that she still had a complete set, devoid of rotten teeth. She almost looked like a younger version of Narcissa Malfoy, only with hair as black as midnight and wavy curls that Hermione and Anya could never achieve.

"So," Regulus said, appeared beside her, "now what?"

Hermione swiped a black curl behind her ear and looked at Regulus. "Every day, the goblins in charge of securing the highly guarded vaults rotate shifts and the cycle continues like that every three days. Most likely, whoever's going to accommodate us today will be the same goblin who assisted you last time," she started. Regulus made a face, clearly displeased, but Hermione continued. "And, as expected, they were suspicious when you suddenly wanted to withdraw a large amount of money from the Black family vault. Hence, they activated the Thief's Downfall."

Regulus scowled. "So you _knew_ that would happen," he accused.

She rolled her eyes at him. " _Yes_ ," she continued. When he opened his mouth to protest, Hermione continued, "Just shut up and listen." Regulus petulantly clamped his lips together, but thankfully kept quiet. "Now, three days later, Bellatrix Lestrange suddenly wants to get a treasure from the Lestrange family vault. It might arouse suspicion in the goblins, enough for them to activate the Thief's Downfall. That would be disastrous, of course, because the magical waterfall will cancel whatever concealment or disguise a potential thief uses, including the effects of Polyjuice Potion."

"Then, the whole plan is pointless now, isn't it?" Regulus dubiously asked.

"It will be if the goblins still activate the Thief's Downfall," Hermione continued. "Which is why Regulus Black will accompany Bellatrix Lestrange for her withdrawal today. Your mere presence can already ease whatever suspicion they may have. Maybe say something that happened during that day only you and the goblin know – for example, the exact amount you withdrew. The goblin will of course recognise that and believe you are really Regulus Black and not some thief in disguise. You can also snidely remark on your unfortunate experience the last time you visited. Your family's part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight and surely you donate a hefty amount of money to Gringotts to sustain it. You can – _well_ – mention something about withdrawing your generous donations if they chose to disrespect the Black heir today."

"You mean _threaten_ , Pettigrew?" he innocently asked, a small smirk growing on his face.

"Whatever you want to call it," she quipped dismissively. "Now, whilst you distract the goblin, I'll go inside and steal Helga Hufflepuff's Cup. After that, we get the hell out of the bank as soon as we can. I've drank enough of the potion to last me three, solid hours. That'll be enough for this whole mission to be finished. Do you have any more questions?"

"Why yes," he drawled. "Are you fucking insane?"

Hermione knitted her eyebrows at his outburst. "What?"

Regulus glanced heavenward, clearly out of sorts, before gazing back at Hermione. "We're talking about breaking into _Gringotts_ , Pettigrew," he insisted. "No one has been successful before. Granted, your plan almost seems plausible, but what if the whole thing gets blown out of proportion? Do you have any Plan B?"

"Yes," she deadpanned. "There's always the dragon."

He gaped at her. "You don't even know if there's a real one inside!" he exclaimed.

"Yes, there is. I've seen it before," she hotly retorted.

"You've seen it—"

"We must _hurry_ ," she insisted, pointedly ignoring how stunned she had made him. "This mission actually has a time limit, if you must know. I'd rather not drink another gulp of that vile potion just to get that bloody horcrux."

Hermione then squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, haughtily gazing down at Regulus like he was dirt beneath her shoe. "How does your cousin act?" she asked.

"Well, you got the bitchy part right," Regulus murmured. Hermione swatted his arm in retaliation. " _Ow_ , violent too! That's Bella all right." When Hermione made another move to swat him, Regulus sighed. "Bella usually hates talking to those she deems beneath her. Goblins most definitely fall into that category. Just… just glower at everybody and stare them down like the perfect Pureblood socialite you are. I'll do most of the talking - then we're all good."

"Fine," she said. "Let's go."

**-ooo-**

There were two wizards standing guard at the entrance of Gringotts bank. Hermione surreptitiously pulled out her wand and coughed a soft " _Confundus_ " under her breath, strong enough to make them disoriented and let her pass through.

Regulus glanced at her in surprise when Hermione undid the spell. The hazy gleam in the eyes of the wizards disappeared and they blinked rapidly at Regulus. "Ah, Master Black, back so soon?" one of the wizards asked with a good-natured smile.

"No time for pleasantries," Hermione haughtily snapped. Regulus quirked an eyebrow, his eyes gleaming in silent mirth. Hermione could see that he was deeply amused by her haughty impersonation of his crazy cousin. The wizard who'd greeted Regulus grew flustered and apologised quickly, waving the probity probe all over Regulus's body.

Once he had been let in without a hitch, Regulus leant towards Hermione in disguise and murmured, "Very good. I thought for a moment I was really with my bitchy cousin."

"Shut up," she hissed, pushing him away and squaring her shoulders once more, strutting forwards on the marble floor of Gringotts like she owned the place. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see that Regulus was biting back an amused smirk.

Regulus took the lead while Hermione trailed behind, also lifting his chin with an air of indifference, which surrounded his form. It disconcerted Hermione how easily he could put on his mask. But then again, as someone who was actively participating in Voldemort's demise, while at the same time pretending to blindly follow whatever the evil wizard believed in, Regulus had to be practiced in such pretences often.

As they neared the designated goblin who handled the vaults of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, Hermione's footsteps faltered and she swallowed down the gasp. She wasn't prepared to see Bogrod sitting behind a handsome, mahogany table. Although the goblin looked several years younger, his features were unmistakably similar to the goblin who had assisted the Golden Trio and Griphook during their break in of 1998.

"Master Black," Bogrod said, surprise flitting in his wide, dark eyes. "I didn't expect to see you so soon."

"I'm not here to get something from our vault," Regulus drawled. "My cousin wants to get something in the Lestrange vault and wanted my company."

Bogrod's eyes landed on Hermione and the disguised witch lifted her head higher, her gaze unwavering. "Mistress Lestrange," he greeted. "It's been a while."

Hermione merely quirked an eyebrow at his address, but gave the tiniest of nods nonetheless. "I wish to visit my family's vault," she said.

"Of course," the goblin said. "I just need identification, Mistress."

The brunette tightly smiled and grabbed onto Regulus's arm. Regulus immediately recognised her call for help and strode towards Bogrod. A menacing glint appeared in his mercurial eyes as he leaned towards the table. "Surely, you won't activate that blasted thing again, will you?" he snarled.

Bogrod's face darkened. "As what I told you last time, Master Black, it is necessary to activate the Thief's Downfall if we deem an activity suspicious - it may prevent a potential thievery," he ground out, lightly glaring at the annoyed Pureblood heir.

"Ah, so you still accuse us of thieving? From our _own_ family vaults?" he quipped. Anger flashed in his eyes like a huge thunderstorm. Bogrod looked slightly terrified by Regulus's sudden temper. Hermione watched on, mildly amused, knowing that although goblins were haughty creatures - usually seeing wizards and witches as imbeciles for letting other creatures protect their precious treasures - they still knew about the infamous Black temper.

"I didn't say that, Master Black," he huffily replied.

A dangerous smirk appeared on Regulus's face. "My Mother sends her thanks in assisting me the last time I visited to withdraw a thousand galleons to purchase her gift," he continued. "Imagine what she'd do if she discovered her Pureblood heir was disrespected by goblin employees of Gringotts. We donate a hefty amount of galleons to keep this place up and running, do we not?"

Bogrod paled at his implication, a small frown now tugging on his face.

"Why are they making us wait, Reggie?" Hermione spat, her lips curling in disdain. "We are Sacred Twenty-Eight, for Merlin's sake!"

"Hmm, cousin dear, I think we should send our apologies to your husband," Regulus drawled, his eyes never shifting away from the frightened goblin. "I heard Rodolphus has recently been rubbing elbows in the _right_ circle. He'd be _very_ disappointed if we did not get his cup from his vault today."

"Very disappointed," the brunette echoed, her silver eyes also boring into the goblin.

The goblin looked deeply annoyed now, as he expelled a huge sigh and jumped down from his chair. "Follow me," he stiffly said.

Hermione and Regulus briefly exchanged triumphant looks before striding behind the goblin.

Bogrod led them inside a narrow hallway lined with dimly-lit torches. At the end was an imposing, wrought-iron gate guarded by another wizard. "I need Clankers, please," the small goblin dully ordered. The wizard briefly glanced at Regulus and Hermione before pulling out a small, metal instrument and passing it to Bogrod.

"You didn't use that before," Regulus pointed out.

"The Black family vaults are not guarded by dragons," the goblin flatly explained as the wizard guard opened the gates and let them inside. "The Lestrange vault, however, needs n Ukranian Ironbelly for added security."

"Well, that's just convenient," the Black heir dryly commented, glowering at Hermione who wore a triumphant smile on her face. "I wonder why my ancestors never thought of placing a bloody _dragon_ to ward our brimming vaults."

Bogrod ignored Regulus's words as he brandished his wand. With a small flick, a screeching cart came into view. Hermione paled, remembering the unpleasant journey they had taken to arrive at the Lestrange's vault last time.

"I hate these bloody little things," Regulus muttered as he helped Hermione settle inside the cart before hopping in beside her. Bogrod sat at the very front to manoeuvre the small wheel. With another flick of his wand, they lurched forward.

The brunette instantly gripped onto Regulus's elbow, holding on for dear life as the cart passed through a lot of looping twists and turns. Bogrod looked like he was used to it already and Hermione wondered how he could continue sitting calmly behind the cart when they would quickly swerve to the left and right, almost toppling them over each time.

Hermione refused to look at the ground beneath, knowing that the height would be great and would paralyse her with irrational fear. Hermione still had a fear of heights despite being reborn as Hermione Pettigrew and no amount of cajoling from Peter to ride a broom with him could dispel her phobia. Instead, she stared at Regulus intently, who only looked marginally better than her. It was perhaps his Quidditch skills that made him calmer than the brunette, but Hermione could see he looked paler than normal too.

Her breath hitched as she spotted the area where she knew the Thief's Downfall would be if ever it was activated. To her utmost relief, no raging waterfall was falling from the ceiling and Hermione only breathed a little better when they passed through without activating it. Regulus glanced at Hermione with wild eyes, disbelieving that her plan had actually worked, but Hermione gripped his elbow tighter, wordlessly relaying he shouldn't celebrate yet.

Finally, after a few more excruciating minutes, the cart lurched to a halt. Hermione skidded toward Regulus and hit his back. The Black heir glared darkly at Bogrod, who was once again ignoring the two as he jumped down from the cart and started shaking the Clankers.

Regulus was unable to suppress a gasp when he saw the Ukranian Ironbelly guarding several vaults behind it. The dragon was still half-blind and bound to large, thick magical chains, cowering pathetically as Bogrod continued ringing the metal instrument in the air. Hermione felt sickly at how maltreated the dragon looked and was tempted once more to set him free.

' _No, no, focus, Hermione,'_ she mentally chanted, forcing herself to look away from the pained, golden eyes of the dragon and to instead focused on the hairy head of Bogrod. Freeing the dragon wasn't part of the plan.

The air was warmer in this area, as the dragon emitted hot, puffs of air while he continued to shy away from the Clankers. Soon, the vaults were clear for them to walk into. Bogrod led the small group inside and stopped at an imposing metal door. He pulled out a small key from his pocket and placed it inside the keyhole. The door opened with a loud groan and Bogrod ushered them inside, still furiously shaking the Clankers to keep the dragon away.

"Be careful not to touch anything, Reggie," Hermione dryly drawled. "We don't want the precious Black heir burned by our precious treasures now, do we?"

"Shut up, Bella," Regulus grumbled under his breath.

The brunette smirked and meandered through the piles and piles of gold and jewels, careful not to touch any treasures, lest she triggered the Geminio Curse. Regulus fell back and stood near Bogrod, tensely watching Hermione instead of following her.

Hermione's heart thudded wildly inside her ribcage and she was thankful for the loud Clankers for concealing her heartbeat. She was _finally_ inside the Lestrange vault, still disguised as Bellatrix Lestrange. Hermione feared that if she became too complacent, too _eager_ , something bad would happen.

After hopping and dodging various glittering treasures, Hermione's eyes finally landed on the gleaming cup of Helga Hufflepuff. Like how she remembered, it was placed on a dais, too high to be reached without any means of a ladder or magic. Hermione rolled her eyes at Bellatrix's predictability. Her undying devotion to Voldemort really was her downfall, for identifying Hufflepuff's Cup was an easy task. Of course, she would display it away from the other gold and precious gems of the Lestrange's. It was by far the most valuable piece of treasure in this whole vault for Bella, after all.

The brunette spied a ladder leaning against the metal wall. With a wave of her wand, the ladder slid forwards until skidding to a halt just below the resting place of the horcrux.

Hermione took a deep, shuddering breath and started climbing the ladder, resolutely focusing on the cup so as not to accidentally glance down and trigger her acrophobia once more.

Once the Cup was within reach, Hermione pulled out a handkerchief to wrap the horcrux. She fished out her small pouch which was spelled with an Undetectable Extension Charm and slipped Hufflepuff's Cup inside. She then pulled out an exact replica and nestled it on the velvety pillow.

Her journey down to the ground was hastier this time, her heart thudding more loudly now that the horcrux was in her possession.

Regulus's eyes were gleaming in excitement when Hermione finally reached them. Upon his questioning glance, Hermione gave the tiniest nods to confirm the Cup was secured. A huge smile tore widely on Regulus's face, which was uncharacteristic on the Black heir, before catching himself and biting his bottom lip. His eyes then widened as he inconspicuously pointed at her eyes. Hermione grimly nodded, knowing that the potion was already wearing off.

"We must leave," Hermione coolly ordered Bogrod.

The goblin glanced at her and gave a firm nod. He did not give any indication that he had noticed her appearance starting to change and once again led them away from the dragon until they had reached the cart.

Hermione's adrenaline was surging throughout the journey back, blessedly distracting her from all the twists and turns. By the time they clambered out of the cart and into the narrow passageway once more, Regulus's eyes were wide with horror. Hermione briefly glanced at one of the dirty windows of the hallway and noticed that her eyes had gone completely sapphire blue and there were already brown streaks in Bella's supposed midnight black hair.

"Hurry up," Regulus quipped, darkly glaring at Bogrod. The goblin glared in return but obliged nonetheless, his footsteps hastening until they emerged back into the brightly-lit room.

"Thank you for your assistance today," Regulus coolly drawled as Hermione turned around to conceal her blue eyes. "I will give word to my parents about your efficiency, Bogrod."

The goblin looked surprised at Regulus's praise, before he puffed out his chest in pride and sat back on his high chair. "Of course, Master Black."

"I'm getting a headache from all the turning we've done," Hermione complained, eyes still tightly closed as she turned to Regulus. She lifted a hand and massaged her temples just to complete the act.

"Fine, we're leaving," he said, grabbing onto her elbow as he hastily pulled her out of Gringotts.

His grip on her elbow tightened with each step, noting that her black hair was now almost brown. Hermione held her breath when they passed their last obstacle – the two wizards at the front door. Hermione saw how their eyebrows were knitted together in confusion, perhaps wondering what had happened to Bellatrix Lestrange's appearance.

" _Confundus_ ," Regulus hissed, his spell hitting both of the guards. Their eyes grew bleary as they rapidly blinked, ignoring when both Hermione and Regulus walked out of the two, front doors of the impenetrable bank.

Regulus had, by then, broken into a run, still tightly holding onto Hermione's elbow, and only stopped when they had finally reached the empty alley behind Flourish and Blotts. The Slytherin plopped on the dirty ground and broke into shaky laughter, his grey eyes wide and bright with disbelief. "Bloody fucking hell, I thought we were going to die!"

Hermione, who had now completely transformed back into herself, slid on the ground beside Regulus and matched his laughter. "We actually did it," she breathed out in incredulity. There was no Thief's Downfall and no breaking out by riding on a traumatised dragon. Hermione couldn't believe that her plan had actually worked.

She threw her arms around Regulus and hugged him tight. The wizard stilled in her arms as he gaped down at her, unused to such displays of gratitude.

"It's all thanks to you," she gushed out, her eyes shining a tad brighter from unshed tears of relief. "If it weren't for you, I might not have been able to get Hufflepuff's Cup."

Regulus slowly relaxed as his cheeks flushed red at her praise. "Blimey, Pettigrew, this was your plan after all," he pointed out, his wide grin still stretched on his face. "I only followed your lead."

Hermione embarrassingly sniffed and wiped her wayward tears away. "Bloody hell, we actually did it," she claimed once more as a few giggles escaped from her lips. She drew herself away from Regulus and placed a hand over her heart. "My heart was beating so loud, I was afraid Bogrod would hear it."

Regulus laughed, "So, we have the Cup," he said. "What now?"

"Only three more to go," she said with a relieved grin.

* * *

**July 21, 1978**

Hermione excused herself and went inside her bedroom, surprised to see Mercury waiting outside her window. She let the greater sooty owl inside and he landed elegantly on her wooden desk. She quickly untied the parchment from his leg. Hermione grabbed a few treats and offered it to Mercury while she unrolled the parchment.

_Which you-know-what should we get next?_

_R.A.B._

Hermione rolled her eyes, as she had specifically told Regulus they should rest for a while after such an exhausting mission. Exasperated by his persistence, she grabbed a spare bit of parchment and penned her reply.

_I think the next best thing to procure is the diary. I am hoping you are well acquainted with the Malfoys?_

_H.P._

**-ooo-**

_Why am I even surprised the Malfoys are involved? Their family's been kissing you-know-who's arse since time immemorial._

_Yes, I am well acquainted with the Malfoys. My other cousin, Cissa, is actually quite fond of me. Retrieving the diary will be easier than the cup ironically, but we have to wait. I cannot just drop by the Malfoy Manor without any decent excuse. There will be a ball at the Manor at Christmas, though. You don't even need to get involved. I practically grew up running around the Manor. I already have an idea as to where they're keeping the diary._

_R.A.B._

Hermione sighed and crumpled Regulus's latest letter. She knew she told him they should rest, but Hermione was disappointed about waiting until Christmas just to procure the next horcrux. On a brighter note, Regulus did say she didn't need to get involved, which was a relief. Although she had impersonated the very person who had tortured Hermione Granger, she still felt queasy at the thought of walking through the walls of the place where her torture had taken place.

She penned a quick reply, agreeing to his words, and sent Mercury back to his master.

As Hermione tucked herself back in bed, she eyed her trunk warily. Knowing there were already two horcruxes housed inside, made her very uncomfortable. Hermione debated whether she wanted to get Dumbledore involved now. On one hand, the Headmaster would surely know how to destroy the horcruxes. With his magic prowess, there was no doubt he'd be able to produce a Fiendyre to destroy them all. However, Hermione still hadn't forgiven Dumbledore for keeping a lot of secrets from her, from _Harry_ , which had been essential in bringing Voldemort down. If he had not spoken in riddles for _years_ , making them figure everything out by themselves, then perhaps Harry and Hermione wouldn't have been forced to resort to brewing a dubious potion that would whisk them away from all the chaos.

She also had this inkling that Dumbledore would bar her from being actively involved in procuring all the horcruxes. Of course, she knew how reckless she was being, putting herself _and_ Regulus in constant danger, but Hermione wanted to make sure the horcruxes were truly collected.

So no, perhaps it wasn't time to tell Dumbledore yet.

As exhaustion came and sleep couldn't be fought off anymore, Hermione made a silent vow to herself that once things got very dangerous and hard, she'd tell Dumbledore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very happy how the Sev/Lily engagement last chapter was well-received. I didn't really intend for their relationship to be so beautiful as I was too busy developing the Jamione instead but to be honest, I've become so uwu for Sev/Lily. So, so uwu.
> 
> Also, thank the writing gods above I was able to finish writing another chapter. In one sitting, if you must know! I've been in a writing slump for a week already so I'm just happy I was able to finish it ahaha. I only have two more chapters left to write (including the epilogue), edit chapters 40-41, then I'm done! Ack!
> 
> Next chapter will already mark the start of Hermione's 7th and last year in Hogwarts. Hermione's 7th year will span for 10 chapters and oh boy, I really can't wait for you to read the future chapters! The plot will pick up, I promise!
> 
> See you tomorrow!
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes)!


	32. chapter thirty-one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 700 KUDOS! I FREAKIN SCREAMED! Thank you all so much ❤️

* * *

**xxxi.**

_**outside the world seems a violent place** _

(Various Storms and Saints by Florence + The Machine)

* * *

**September 1, 1978**

As Peter carried Hermione's school trunk down the staircase with her closely trailing behind, their doorbell rang throughout the house.

"Are we expecting someone?" she asked with a deep frown.

Peter looked equally confused himself, before his jaw dropped and his eyes widened in surprise. "Those wankers!" he exclaimed. "I thought they were kidding!"

He then proceeded to run off towards their front door, leaving Hermione to struggle with her trunk.

As she landed on the last step, she heard a familiar barking laugh and shouts of exclamation. Shuffling footsteps pattered across their floor, and then there was James, smiling brightly at her. Hermione paused, her eyes widening, as she was too surprised to see that he was here, in her own home.

"Hi," he cheekily greeted.

"What are you doing here?" she breathed out.

Before he could answer her question, more sets of footsteps padded on their floor and three more boys joined James. A laugh bubbled out of her lips upon seeing Sirius and Remus smiling widely at her. "Whiskers! Did you miss us?" Sirius greeted, shooting forward to pull Hermione into a huge, bear hug.

"What are you all doing here?" she asked in between laughs.

"We wanted to send you off on your last school-year at Hogwarts," Remus explained, prying Hermione off Sirius to also give her a hug. "Head Girl! I knew it'd be you the moment you sent that Bat-Bogey Hex on James."

Hermione smiled warmly at the other two, realising it had been a while since she had last seen them. Like Peter, James and Sirius were wearing the standard uniform of an Auror-in-training – a three-piece suit, with a black tie hanging around their neck, black trousers, combative dragonhide boots, leather fingerless gloves, and a midnight black robe bearing the Auror seal on the breast pocket. Hermione stared a little too long when her eyes landed on James, mouth growing dry at how ridiculously attractive he was in his attire. They all looked like proper ministry officials and Hermione felt a little naïve in their presence, still readying herself to attend a new school-year at Hogwarts.

"How do I look?" James smugly asked, his pompous smirk growing as he knew full well that she had been admiring his appearance.

She flushed red and glowered at James, who merely laughed and pulled her away from Remus to give her a hug. Hermione instantly melted against James's warm embrace, smiling against his shoulder when she felt him drop a kiss on the side of her temple.

"Oh! You're all here!"

They all turned to look at Anya Pettigrew standing in the doorframe near the kitchen, a huge, surprised smile on her face.

"Sorry to intrude, Anya," James said with a lopsided smile as he stepped away from Hermione's embrace. "The blokes just wanted to send Hermione off for her last school-year at Hogwarts."

Anya's eyes were glittering at the guests. "Have you eaten breakfast yet?" she asked. "I can prepare a meal—"

"Mum, Hermione's going to be late," Peter cut her off with a laugh.

Their mother deflated in disappointment but her smile was still on her face. "You should drop by again," she said, her eyes directed at both Sirius and Remus.

"That would be lovely, thank you," the werewolf said with a kind smile.

"If the lady wishes it," Sirius said with a flourished bow and hurtling a wink. Peter grimaced and swatted his arm, prompting Anya to laugh and wave her hand in goodbye.

"You really should invite us over," Sirius complained. "I don't know why you don't want us to visit your house!"

"Because you'd all be rowdy and pull pranks on our poor mother," Hermione pointed out. She warily eyed the other boys and frowned. "You're really coming with us to King's Cross? What about work?"

"We're just dropping you off, Hermione," James assured, snaking an arm around her waist and pulling her closer to his side. "Moody'll expect us in an hour or so, which is enough time to see you off on the Hogwarts Express."

Peter grabbed onto her trunk again and pulled it outside their front door. Sirius and Remus went to walk to the opposite side of the road, meaning to reach the Apparation point, but Peter stopped them. "Where are you going?" he asked, his blue eyes twinkling.

"We're not Apparating?" Remus asked, furrowing his brows in confusion. "I know Hermione doesn't have a license yet, but James can bring her Side-Along."

Hermione laughed as Peter giddily shook his head and pulled her trunk away. "And miss an opportunity to drive his car?" she asked. "I think not."

Sirius's eyes had comically widened. "We're going to get there by _car_?" he asked, almost breathlessly.

"King's Cross isn't too far from here," Hermione said, pulling James with her as she trailed behind Peter. "It's only going to take twenty minutes or so."

Peter had already opened the back trunk of a red 1976 Chevy Impala to place Hermione's school trunk inside.

James whistled under his breath and brushed his fingers against the car. "Wicked," he said, grinning widely as he threw a look at Sirius. "This is even better than your motorbike, mate!"

"Oi!" Sirius cried with a frown. "Not my baby."

Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled the car door open. "Come on, Sirius. Hop in," she ushered.

"I want to sit in the front," he protested.

"You're going to get us all killed if you distract Peter with your tinkering," she stated matter-of-factly. She grinned when Sirius glowered but followed her nonetheless and climbed into the backseat. "You take the passenger seat, Remus."

The werewolf eyed the car warily. "Is it going to be safe?" he asked.

"Live a little, Moony-pie!" Sirius exclaimed, poking his head out of the window.

Remus tiredly sighed and finally relented.

Hermione also climbed onto the backseat and was soon sandwiched between her boyfriend and the overly excited Sirius.

Peter looked very proud of himself when he sat in the driver's seat and ignited the car. It sputtered into life with the low rumble Peter always loved to hear, and Hermione snorted at how excited her brother was. Sirius and James were already tinkering with all the buttons in the back relating to the air flow control.

"If you break something back there, I'm going to kill you both," Peter lowly warned, giving both of his best friends a piercing glare.

"Blimey, you're worse than Sirius with his motorbike," James pointed out with a laugh. "Hermione can always _Reparo_ if things get broken."

As if on cue, Sirius broke the car window crank with his aggressive rolling. Peter's eyes widened in horror whilst the shaggy-haired wizard sheepishly smiled. "Oops," he said with a nervous chuckle.

Hermione sighed. "I can't use magic outside our house," she grumbled. "Mum's wards do not extend up here."

Peter blew his top off while Sirius incessantly apologised. James was boisterously laughing while Remus tiredly sighed once more and pulled out his wand to deftly fix the window crank.

Satisfied that Sirius would not touch anything else, Peter swerved the car out of the parking space and drove onto the road. Hermione watched in amusement as Remus paled at all of the road bumps and swerves Peter made until they had emerged onto the busy road of bustling London. Although a Half-blood, Remus had still grown up in a Wizard household and his parents had never seen the need to own a car.

James and Sirius, on the other hand, were bristling in excitement as they gazed at the other cars and huge buses passing by.

"Whoa, that's monstrous!" James pointed out as a six-wheeler truck zoomed past the car. "You should seriously ditch your motorbike and get a car instead, Sirius."

" _No_ , never my baby," he interjected.

Much to Hermione's amusement, both James and Sirius froze when a police car passed by. "What?" she asked, holding onto James's hand. "Why'd you suddenly look like you'd seen Dementors?"

Peter was cackling behind the wheel. "Oh, haven't we told you yet about the great police chase that happened in the summer of 1977?" he asked, glancing at Hermione through the rear-view mirror.

Identical goofy smiles appeared on James and Sirius. "It was wicked," James said.

"Best summer of my whole life," Sirius barked, relaxing once more now that the police car had driven by. "Jamesy and I got into a little bit of a skirmish with the police last summer," he explained, grinning widely at Hermione's confused look. "It stemmed from a drunken dare. Don't worry your bushy little head about it now, Hermione."

"You're both idiots," she sighed, lightly glaring at James who was silently laughing besides her.

Peter took another swerve and Hermione realised they were nearing King's Cross. She looked at Remus, who by now had marginally calmed down, since Peter had proven to be a decent driver. The curious wizard was glancing at the various knobs and buttons in the car.

"What does this button do?" Remus curiously asked, pointing at one, shiny silver button.

"I bet that button's going to eject you out of this car, Moony," Sirius teased, a challenging glint in his eyes.

The scarred wizard deeply frowned. "No, it won't," he said, his finger still a hairsbreadth away from the button. He glanced at Peter. "It won't, right?"

Peter smirked and quirked an eyebrow. "I neither confirm nor deny," he said.

"Go on, then," James urged, hazel eyes gleaming with mischief. "I dare you to press it, Moony."

Remus scowled. "Hermione?" he asked, piercing her with his golden eyes.

Hermione innocently smiled. "Where's your Gryffindor courage, Remus?" she asked with a wide grin.

James and Sirius broke into boisterous laughter. Peter sniggered and briefly glanced at Remus, who was steadily growing annoyed.

"Traitor," Remus hissed. Then, after taking a deep, resolute breath, Remus tightly clenched his jaw and jabbed a finger at the silver button. He comically shielded himself from whatever he was imagining, but instead of getting ejected from the car, loud music blared inside.

Remus scowled at Sirius, who was cackling the loudest, and turned around to punch him on his shoulder.

"Hey!" James exclaimed, eyes lit up in recognition. "I know this song!"

"Isn't this the one you sang for Evans?" Peter asked.

James grinned and started belting out 'I Want to Hold Your Hand'. Hermione yelled for him to shut up and placed her hands against her ears, but James kept on going. Sirius, not wanting to miss out, started screaming random words that clashed terribly with James's equally terrible voice. The music was drowned out by their ridiculous singing. Peter was the only one who was singing the right words in a decent voice.

Remus met Hermione's eyes and through the ruckus, she managed to hear him say, "I'm best friends with idiots!"

The brunette laughed in spite of the chaos, secretly wondering how she'd survive her last year at Hogwarts without them by her side.

Once the song was done, James snaked an arm around her waist and gave her a small smirk. "So," he started, "I heard that girls tend to snog a boy after crooning 'I Want to Hold Your Hand'. What say you, Hermione?"

Her cheeks turned a brilliant shade of red while Peter loudly gagged behind the wheel.

"Absolutely not, Potter."

**-ooo-**

Hermione rolled her eyes when the Aurors-in-training were practically preening at the stares they were getting.

"I knew there was a motive behind why you all wanted to drop me off at the train station," she grumbled under her breath. James casually dropped an arm over her shoulders and pulled her close.

"There's no motive, kitten," Sirius said as he sent a wink at a gaggle of giggling girls. "We're just going to miss you so much now that there's no one to mother us around."

"It's just going to be a year," she said, brushing her curls away and smiling briefly at Dorothy Boot who passed by the group. Her Ravenclaw roommate unabashedly stared at the Marauders, prompting Hermione to roll her eyes again when Dorothy turned a deep maroon when Sirius winked at her. "Honestly."

James was silently laughing, his arm now slipping down to grasp onto her hand. "Don't study too much this year, Whiskers," he said.

"That's not possible," Peter sighed as he tugged Hermione's trunk through the growing crowd. "It's NEWTs year. I bet she's already made a colour-coded schedule that'll be impossible to adhere to unless you're as barmy as her."

Hermione swatted his chest, earning a glare from Peter.

"It's going to be a tough year," she said. "Besides NEWTs, I have Head Girl duties too."

And a horcrux hunt with Regulus Black, but they didn't really need to know that.

"Dumbledore will surely regret appointing you soon enough," Sirius teased. "What with your knack for ruling with an iron fist and all. At least Evans was mighty lenient and she'd merely deduct points for my shenanigans. If it were you, deducting points and hexing me until the next millennium wouldn't suffice."

"Good to know you know me very well, Black," she replied in return. Sirius snorted and fondly ruffled her bushy hair.

"I'm really going to miss you, blimey," Sirius declared.

"Don't do anything reckless and stupid once you're sent into field missions," she warned with a hard glint in her blue eyes.

"Ah, well, Hermione," James said with a mischievous smile, "you know that's not possible."

Hermione sighed through her nose and glanced at Remus. "Take care of these dolts," she pleaded.

Remus smiled apologetically. "Much as I agree with your sentiments, Hermione, I'm afraid I can't watch out for these berks for a few months." His cheeks flushed red with excitement and his golden eyes shone bright. Hermione unwittingly smiled; she'd never seen Remus looking so alive and human before. "Damocles Belby owled me a week ago to invite me over to his laboratory. Said it was time to start testing his potions."

"That's brilliant!" Hermione exclaimed.

"I might be gone for a month or so," he said, this time addressing his mates. "You'll keep me updated on things and – you know – the _Order_."

"Of course, Moony-pie," Sirius said, throwing an arm over the werewolf's broad shoulders. "I'm going to send you detailed letters every day, telling you how my day went."

Remus made a face. "Just the _important_ stuff, Pads, Merlin," he snapped.

Hermione's eyes landed on Peter. "Then, maybe _you_ can keep them away from trouble," she said, jutting a thumb towards the other two.

"Sorry, Hermione," her brother said with an apologetic smile. "You know I'm powerless against the Potter-Black combo. We should just hope for the best."

The brunette sighed in resignation. "I figured as much," she said, petulantly glaring at James.

"We're going to be in our best behaviour, Whiskers," he assured, although the look in his eyes still spelt trouble. "You just focus on your studies and on being a terrifying Head Girl. Before you know it, you'll be graduating the top of your class and will spend all your time with _me_."

Hermione sighed once more, although she was unable to suppress a smile. She briefly glanced at her watch and noted that she had a few more minutes to spare before the Hogwarts train left. "I should get going," she said, eyes turning forlorn at the four boys who'd been a huge part of her life. "Hogwarts will not be the same without you."

Peter pulled her away from James and gave her a big hug. "Take care of yourself, yeah?" he said, patting her back to relay as much comfort as he could. "Owl us if something comes up."

"We have something to give you before you leave," James declared.

The witch pulled away and glanced at her boyfriend, who then rummaged inside his robe pocket to pull out the familiar Marauder's Map she'd returned during their last few months before graduation. "We've all decided that you should take it for your last year in Hogwarts," he said, extending the map towards her. "We know you'll put it to good use."

"I thought you said you wanted to give this to pranksters," she said, smiling widely as she grasped the parchment in her hands. "It'd be a terrible waste to give this to me instead."

"It won't," James said with twinkling eyes. "I'm sure of it."

"Use it well, kitten," Sirius said with a reverent nod.

Hermione laughed and slipped the map inside her pocket. "I'll try my best," she said.

"I want you to have this too," James said, glancing at Remus. The scarred wizard firmly nodded his head and opened his satchel, pulling out the familiar rich material of James's Invisibility Cloak. He passed it to James, who then extended it to Hermione once more. "Take it."

The Marauder's Map she could accept, but not this valuable piece of cloth. "I think it'd be more useful for you and your missions, James," she said, lightly pushing it away. "Especially on missions of the Order." She gave him a piercing glance. "It's going to save your life a lot of times. I'm sure of it."

Because it had done numerous times for Hermione Granger and Harry Potter. The Invisibility Cloak had proven to be very reliable for the duo when they had found themselves stuck in very dangerous situations. With the height of the First Wizarding War steadily approaching, Hermione would rather the Marauders have it instead of her, who'd most likely be safe inside the walls of Hogwarts.

"Take it," James insisted, grasping onto her hand and depositing his cloak in her palm. "I'll rest easy knowing my girlfriend can get away from any shenanigans that she has planned this school-year."

She smiled sadly at the sudden worry in his hazel eyes. "I'll be safe in Hogwarts," she reassured.

"We know that," Peter said, grasping onto her elbow to give it a comforting squeeze. "But – well – without us beside you, it's a bit worrisome."

Hermione sighed and gave them another smile. "Worry for your lives more than mine," she seriously said.

"That's not going to happen," James heavily said, voice thick with a promise that almost knocked the breath out of her.

Knowing they'd be persistent, Hermione hugged the cloak against her chest and beamed. "I'm going to use this well too," she promised, mind already lost in her horcrux hunt with Regulus Black.

"HERMIONE!"

She flinched and wildly looked around, blue eyes instantly latching onto a furiously waving redhead. Beside her stood a mildly amused Severus Snape, who smiled at Hermione when he caught her eyes.

"Why are you both here?" she exclaimed, breaking into a run to envelope both of her friends in a hug.

"Merlin and Morgana, we thought we wouldn't make it on time!" Lily cried, wounding her arms around Hermione to pull her closer. "Sev was an idiot for forgetting to set his alarm." She ignored Sev's glare and pulled Hermione away to look at her with sad, emerald eyes. "Oh Merlin, I'm going to miss you so much, Hermione! Please take care of yourself."

"Don't study too much," Sev said with a serious frown. "We'd rather you were still alive once you get out of Hogwarts and attend our wedding."

Hermione laughed and pulled them into a hug once more. "I'm going to miss you both," she said.

The whistle blew from the train and Hermione reluctantly pulled away from her friends. "Please be safe," she firmly pleaded.

Lily held Hermione's hand and gave it a squeeze. "You too," she said.

Hermione broke away from her best friends and sauntered back towards the Marauders. "Goodbye," she whispered, hugging each and every one of them. Peter hugged her the longest, the tightest, and by the time she had pulled away, Hermione felt a little silly for having tears in her eyes.

"Take care of yourself," James said as he pulled Hermione to him again to place a kiss on the side of her temple.

The brunette nodded and pulled away. "See you soon," she said.

Hermione quickly clambered onto the train, with Peter helping her haul her trunk inside. She pushed a window open and ducked outside, furiously waving her hand at her friends until they were all but a dot at a distance.

**-ooo-**

Hermione was the first one to arrive at the Head's Compartment.

It was relatively larger than any compartments on the train, enough to accommodate at least ten people or so inside.

She quickly pulled her trunk inside and placed it overhead with a flick of her wand. With a few minutes to spare, Hermione pulled out the list of Prefects Professor McGonagall had sent to her with her badge, just to see if she'd recognise any familiar names.

She spied Michelle Corner as one of the seventh year Prefects and a few students with familiar last names. Her nose scrunched up in disdain when she noticed that one Henrik McLaggen was appointed as a sixth year Gryffindor Prefect. She'd bet he'd be as incorrigible as Cormac McLaggen.

The compartment door soon opened and in came Harold MacMillan, a Hufflepuff and the appointed Head Boy this year. He looked just like Ernie MacMillan, with blond hair parted neatly on top of his head and dark blue eyes.

"Hermione Pettigrew," he greeted with a polite tilt of his head. "As soon as I got my badge, I knew Headmaster Dumbledore would appoint you as Head Girl."

Well, Hermione hadn't guessed it would have been him, but he didn't really need to know that. She knew a handful of more capable wizards, who surely were more intelligent and diligent than this boy now sitting across from her. Admittedly, she did wish Regulus would be appointed as her counterpart just so she could work with him more for their horcrux hunt. She did send him a letter a few days before, wondering why he wasn't Head Boy.

" _Me? Head Boy?"_ he wrote for his reply. Hilariously, she could imagine the sneer on his face. _"I have far greater things to attend to._ You _know that."_

Harold had his own merits though and Hermione believed his highly opinionated self would greatly benefit their partnership. She needed someone who'd loudly agree – or oppose – her if the need arose. Although it was a terrible exaggeration, because _surely,_ she wasn't that strict. Hermione feared there would come a time the students would hiss behind her back that she was ruling with an iron fist.

Merlin, that would be so horrible.

"Ah, forgive me, maybe you do not know my name," the Hufflepuff said as he offered his hand. "Harold MacMillan, Hufflepuff."

Hermione glanced at him in amusement as she grasped his hand. "Of course I know who you are," she said, giving his hand a slight shake before retrieving her hands. "We're in the same year after all."

He looked genuinely surprised at her claim. "Ah – well – you've been spending a lot of time with the older Gryffindors so I wasn't quite sure," he said, followed by an embarrassed chuckle.

The brunette lightly blushed, silently berating herself for not spending much time with students in her year. Her Ravenclaw roommates and Regulus were an exception, of course, but Hermione admittedly only spent time with them when the Gryffindors were unavailable.

"I promise to live up to James Potter's legacy," he then continued with ridiculous seriousness on his face.

Hermione snorted at his claim. "James is not great and glorious like you lot think he is," she said, fondly thinking of all the stupid pranks he pulled whilst still getting away from all of it, unscathed.

"Oh, but he _is_ ," Harold insisted. "He developed this new Patrol schedule that's more efficient for the Prefects. Didn't you know?"

The brunette frowned. "No," she replied with an embarrassed blush. She was too busy last year worrying about her horcrux hunt with Regulus, her growing feelings for James, and the budding relationship between her best friends, so she never really knew about anything relating to James's Head duties.

"Never mind that," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "You weren't a Prefect last year, so of course you wouldn't know that."

Her lips thinned into a line at the tone of his voice. So, he was like Ernie MacMillan. Hermione assured herself his heart would be in the right place, and he'd be diligent enough to do his duties. Never mind whether she thought he was annoying most of the time.

The compartment door soon opened and in came the Prefects. Hermione smiled at Michelle, who settled beside Hermione.

Once they were complete, the brunette cleared her throat.

"Hello," she greeted. "My name is Hermione Pettigrew and I'll be your Head Girl this year."

**-ooo-**

Hermione had been in the Head's dormitory once before when Lily had invited her over last year, but she still couldn't help but stare at how lavish her shared dormitory with Harold was. Their Common Room wasn't as big as the Gryffindor's or even the Ravenclaw's, but it was spacious enough to hold one, long white couch and two grey armchairs near a small fireplace.

She glanced at the whole place, amused at how it was devoid of any colours. Most of the furniture was coloured in different shades of black and grey. Since Dumbledore was fond of symbolism, Hermione didn't doubt that this was his way of telling the Heads that, as the highest leaders of the student body, they shouldn't identify themselves as students from different Houses.

"We can finalise the Patrol schedules tomorrow, if you like," Harold offered as he paused in front of his bedroom and glanced over his shoulder.

Hermione smiled. "That sounds good," she replied. "It's best if we rest for now."

"Good night then," he said with a tilt of his head, before disappearing into his room.

The brunette pulled her trunk and climbed up the small staircase leading to her new bedroom.

The colour scheme wasn't much different to their Common Room, with a handsome grey bed placed in the centre of her room. There was a dark, mahogany desk pushed against a large arched window. A wardrobe stood at the middle of two, empty bookshelves - large enough to house Hermione's books. She guessed the door on the east side led to her shared bathroom with Harold. Beside it was a small dresser, complete with a mirror and some drawers.

As Hermione unpacked her things and placed them in their proper places, she was once again reminded that all of her closest friends had already graduated. Hermione paused in her packing and frowned, wondering if she should start hanging out with her Ravenclaw roommates once more. They did get closer during her OWLs year, but she'd been busy with her new relationship with James and helping Regulus with the horcrux hunt in her sixth year to properly hang out with them again.

' _You should have made more friends in your year,'_ a voice inside her head admonished, one that eerily sounded like Sev.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione went back to her chore of unpacking her things, firmly promising herself that she'd spend more time with her Ravenclaw roommates. It was NEWTs year after all, and they'd been decent student partners. Hermione just hoped they'd still like to hang out with her.

As she closed her trunk, she heard a soft tapping from her bedroom window.

Mercury hooted grumpily outside and surprised, Hermione immediately walked towards the window and let the owl in.

"Well, this is a surprise," she told the greater sooty owl, which landed on her mahogany desk and stuck out his leg. Hermione untied the parchment and unrolled it, taking in Regulus's familiar handwriting.

_I've done some thinking over the summer and I reckon it's best if we strengthen our duelling skills. What we've been doing so far has been dangerous and if ever we come across a potential enemy, it is best if we are well-equipped._

_R.A.B._

_P.S. I hope you don't mind, but can I have one of your colour-coded schedules? It's NEWTs year after all._

Hermione snorted at the postscript. Truthfully, she had already made a colour-coded schedule for Regulus, and even for her Ravenclaw friends, during the summer.

Her eyes then strayed towards his letter and she was surprised he'd suggested such a thing. But then again, she thought it was a good idea. Hermione was thankful they still hadn't come across any Death Eaters during their horcrux hunt, but with the ongoing war outside Hogwarts, it would be best if they'd practiced. Hermione hadn't practiced her duelling skills for years, after all. Hermione Pettigrew never found the need to do so in the past. But now that she had promised herself she'd participate in the First Wizarding War, with every intention of bringing Voldemort down, it was a good idea to start brushing up on her duelling skills.

Grabbing onto some spare parchment and her quill, Hermione jotted down her reply.

_I think that's a brilliant idea! We'll work out the schedule as soon as possible. The duelling space won't be a problem. We can always practice in the Room of Requirement._

_H.P._

_P.S. Yes, I've made you a colour-coded schedule, you dolt. Meet me at Greenhouse 3 tomorrow. I'll give it to you. I'm sure you don't want your Slytherin acquaintances to see you fraternising with a Blood-Traitor, right?_

Hermione rolled the parchment and tied it to Mercury's leg, bidding him goodbye as he hooted and flew out of her bedroom window.

* * *

**September 2, 1978**

When Hermione came down for breakfast that day, there were still only a few students scattered around.

She absentmindedly strode towards the spot she usually sat at during her meals, but paused when she saw Dorothy blearily mixing a cup of coffee as a wide yawn tore out from her lips.

Remembering her promise to herself last night, Hermione changed direction and sat on the bench opposite the sleepy raven-haired girl.

"Good morning," she cheerily greeted as she started to pile pancakes and bacon onto her plate.

"Hermione?" Dorothy asked, blinking rapidly to dispel her sleepiness away. "Why are you here?"

Hermione paused and awkwardly scratched her chin. "Well, this is the Ravenclaw table," she said.

Dorothy snorted and stifled another yawn. "No," she said, "I meant why are you sitting _here_? You never sat here."

The brunette lightly blushed. "Oh, you want me to leave?" she tentatively asked.

Dorothy softly laughed and shook her head. "No, dummy, you can stay here, of course," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I'm just surprised you're here. You never hang out with us during meal times."

Her cheeks reddened more in embarrassment as she guiltily stared at her plate. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"No, blimey, I didn't even mean it that way!" Dorothy cried, shooting forward to grasp onto Hermione's hand. "We know that Lily Evans and Severus Snape are your best friends. _And,_ you're dating James Potter so you're close friends with the Marauders by default. It's understandable why you always hung out with them more than us."

Hermione glumly chuckled and brushed an errant curl away. "Yes, well, they're graduates now so I don't really have anyone to hang out with anymore," she claimed.

Dorothy patted her hand for comfort. "You know we'll always be here," she said. "The girls and I are really fond of you. We all agree you are the best study partner we've ever had." She laughed when Hermione's eyes widened. "It's NEWTs year now so we were hoping you'd give us your colour-coded schedules again?"

"I already made your colour-coded schedules," Hermione revealed with a sheepish smile.

"Of course you did," Dorothy said with a fond smile.

"We can study together this year," the brunette said with hope shining in her eyes. "If you'll have me."

"Blimey, Hermione, I got seven 'O's in my OWLs with your help," the raven-haired girl cried. "Of course we'll let you study with us again."

Hermione grinned in gratitude, once again promising herself she'd hang out more with them. They'd been good company after all.

As they continued their meals and more students arrived inside the Great Hall, the owl post came and started depositing letters and packages for the students. Hermione caught the Daily Prophet from one of the tawny owls and paid for her subscription. Before she could start reading the morning newspaper however, Hermione saw Thunderbolt zooming inside.

"Well, hello," she greeted, showing her upturned hand as James's owl deposited a small box on her palm. Thunderbolt nipped her finger affectionately before taking flight once more.

Inside the box were several pieces of toffees and a small rolled up parchment. Grinning like an idiot, Hermione unrolled the parchment and read James's letter.

_Whiskers,_

_Knowing you, you'll skip your meals to study like a loon. As such, I've provided enough sugar for your brain to continue functioning. But seriously, please don't skip your meals. As someone who has already taken the NEWTs, eating on time helps with studying. And sleeping too!_

_By the way, Moony already left to meet with Belby. Bloody git was so excited, he almost left before the break of dawn. Thankfully, Pads was able to stop him and forced him to have breakfast first._

_Auror training's still rigorous but I think Moody's already warming up to us, even to Peter. Moody offhandedly complimented Peter's skill with Concealment and Disguise. I think he's going to pass that with flying colours. Wormy's been over the moon ever since._

_I really miss you. Do you reckon I could sneak into the Shrieking Shack tomorrow just to see you and get a proper snog? I can already imagine your eye roll by now so I take that as a no._

_But really, I do miss you. Things have been tense here at the ministry. Have you seen the morning news? I can't believe the ministry's still covering up the attacks. People are starting to notice. Word has spread they want to impeach the current minister and appoint Bagnold instead._

_Be careful always. Please._

_Love,  
_ _James_

Hermione fondly brushed over his name before absentmindedly grabbing onto the Daily Prophet. James asked her about the morning news which had piqued her interest.

Her eyes quickly scanned the front page, noting another massacre of different families, this time from various cities in England. At first, there seemed to be no connection whatsoever. Hermione was sure that if these massacres had reached the Muggle news, police would be puzzling over the randomness of it all.

But the Daily Prophet mentioned all the families who had been killed. _"… Muggle families of newly graduated Muggleborn children were mercilessly killed by rogue unidentified wizards or witches."_

Bile rose in Hermione's throat as the snake from the menacing Dark Mark flickered through the sky, before the photograph would start on its loop once more.

"It's getting bad, isn't it?"

Hermione tore her gaze away from the newspaper and glanced up at a grim Alex.

"The attacks," she continued, tensely glancing at her cup of tea.

"The ministry said—"

"The ministry _lies_ ," Dorothy hissed, cutting Michelle off. Her eyes grew dark. "I heard my parents once, speaking about the War and… and Vol – Voldemort."

Both Alex and Michelle winced while Hermione grimaced.

"He's steadily gaining power," Dorothy continued, ignoring how her friend started to pale at her words. "The increasing attacks just mean he's growing persistent."

Silence met her small claim. Hermione warily eyed her half-finished meal, knowing that if she forced herself to finish it, she'd start vomiting in the nearest loo.

She thickly swallowed and unwittingly glanced at the Slytherin table. To her surprise, Regulus's eyes were already latched onto her. His jaw was tense and there was a grim look on his face. No doubt he'd read the morning news too.

Hermione clenched her jaw and glanced back at the newspaper, glaring darkly at the menacing Dark Mark. There was a newfound vigour surging through her veins and she silently promised to herself that she'd work extra hard this year, just to plan on procuring the remaining three horcruxes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to research if Aurors have uniforms but based from the movies, we know that they actually don't. But I really want to give them uniforms - I mean, imagine James Potter in a handsome uniform I'm— 
> 
> So yes, the Auror-in-training uniform thing is purely made up hahaha.
> 
> Also, I really needed a transition chapter from the previous action-packed horcrux hunt to the next chapter, which is asdfhjldfhlasdf! I can't wait for you to read the next chapter. No, scratch that – the next chapters. I'm not sure if I'm allowed to hype y'all up, but I'm really so, so excited for you to read them huhu.
> 
> Anyway, that is all! Terribly sorry for not making Regulus a Head Boy. I have different plans for him this year, though, so there's that.
> 
> See you tomorrow!
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr! (kimmy-writes)


	33. chapter thirty-two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so, just so you know, this chapter is one of my favorites hehe.

* * *

**xxxii.**

_**i miss you in the morning and in the evening rain** _

(If I Can't Have You by Sara Bareilles)

* * *

**October 1, 1978**

Hermione was awake before seven am on that bright, Sunday morning. Since she was studying often with her Ravenclaw classmates, Hermione thought it would be more convenient to sleep at the Ravenclaw Tower, stealing brief moments of silence tucked against the mahogany desks in their Common Room.

She could tell her roommates were still sleeping, after a quick scan around her dormitory. With Hermione's rigorous studying last night, her other Ravenclaw friends had had no choice but to keep up with her, especially if they didn't want to get left behind on their strict schedule.

"You're bloody insane," Alex had told her last night as she kicked off her shoes haphazardly and plopped down on her bed without bothering to change her clothes. Not even a few minutes had passed by and Alex was already lightly snoring on her bed.

"Tell me if I'm being too laborious," she'd said with a sheepish smile at Dorothy and Michelle.

The two exchanged amused glances. "You've always been laborious, Hermione, dear," Dorothy said as she pulled Hermione into a quick hug. "And we don't want you to ever change."

"Good night," Michelle chirpily said, smiling brightly at Hermione as she disappeared behind the door to the loo.

The brunette smiled sheepishly at the slumbering forms of her housemates as she got ready for the day. She knew she'd been extra rigid this year for their NEWTs. Hermione had gone through six years at Hogwarts _twice,_ so she already had an idea as to what to expect during her lessons. But Hermione had never been a seventh-year student before, so all her lessons were quite new, and she had to work extra hard this year just to maintain her grades. With her added Head Girl duties that demanded too much time from her – now, she understood Lily's lamentations – Hermione couldn't afford to slack off.

But despite all the academic and student leader duties, Hermione never strayed away from her true priority this year – to hunt for the horcruxes. Regulus had contacted her at a minimum this year, no doubt too engrossed with his own NEWTs and perhaps even his own Death Eater duties. It frustrated her immensely how he had no other choice but to wait until Christmas to retrieve Riddle's diary. The only good side was that he constantly reassured her she didn't have to get herself involved and that she just had to continue being the prim and proper, responsible Head Girl she was.

Their plan to start practicing their duelling skills had been their lowest priority in the first month, as they tried to adjust to their last year at Hogwarts. It was only last night when Regulus had owled her, asking if today would be a good day for them to start their duelling lessons. Since Hermione had nothing else to do, she agreed almost immediately.

As Hermione donned some fresh, breezy Muggle clothes that could help her move freely, she chanced a glance at the shimmery Invisibility Cloak inside her trunk. She planned on turning into her Animagus form today, but hesitated when she saw the Cloak.

A small, fond smile flittered over her face as she lifted it from her trunk and started to smooth down invisible creases. She remembered scurrying away from a dangerous three-headed dog and angry caretakers with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. She remembered all the adventures she had gone through with this Cloak blanketing them safely from harm. She still thought it wasn't wise for James to let her have his Cloak for this school-year, but she didn't bother insisting on returning it anymore, knowing James would be stupidly stubborn about it.

Having decided to use the Invisibility Cloak instead, Hermione donned it over her body. In the mirror, she saw how her body instantly disappeared.

The Cloak smelled faintly of James, which made her heart flutter a bit. She would be lying if she said she hadn't thought of him during her first month at Hogwarts. James still constantly wrote to her about his Auror training and his friends. He sometimes hinted about Order stuff, but had been vague about it, as writing such information through letters would be dangerous. Hogwarts really wasn't the same without him and his friends. There were no sudden boisterous noises over at the Gryffindor table or pranksters with mischief in their eyes being chased away by Filch. In fact, the happiest of them all was perhaps Filch, who'd been loudly proclaiming his relief that James Potter and his friends had graduated from Hogwarts.

With her heart a tad forlorn, Hermione finally tiptoed out of her dormitory, passed through the students who woke up early, and into the corridors of a silent Hogwarts.

Hermione took her time to admire Hogwarts on this quiet, Sunday morning, letting herself pass through secret passages and dark alcoves only a true prankster would know. By the time she reached the seventh-floor corridor, her legs were slightly sore and her nerves already awake.

"I knew you'd be early," she called out upon seeing Regulus keenly observing the prancing Barnabas the Barmy, his lips curled in disdain.

The Slytherin whipped around in the direction of her voice, but then knitted his eyebrows. "Pettigrew?" he called, grey eyes scanning the whole corridor.

Realising she was still hidden underneath the Invisibility Cloak, Hermione pulled it away and grinned when Regulus softly yelped in surprise. "Hi," she greeted.

He warily eyed the Invisibility Cloak clutched in her hands. "You own an Invisibility Cloak?" he asked, striding towards Hermione to brush a finger against the rich material of the cloak. He knitted his eyebrows. "It doesn't look like an ordinary Invisibility Cloak."

"It's James's, actually," she corrected. "A family heirloom."

"Family heirloom?" he asked, his eyebrows now shot up to his hairline. "Normal Invisibility Cloaks only last for fifteen years at most. After that, its magical properties will fade. Think of a botched-up Disillusionment Charm."

"Like I said, family heirloom," the brunette said with a shrug. "The Potters are famous inventors. I don't doubt James's ancestors may have invented an Invisibility Cloak that would last a lifetime."

Regulus brushed his finger once more against the cloak, this time with interest in his eyes. "And he lent you this treasure?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes."

The Slytherin snorted. "So, Potter may actually be in love with you. Look at that," he said as a petulant frown tugged the corners of his lips downward.

"He's not in love with me," Hermione hotly interjected, her cheeks now flaming red. Regulus quirked an eyebrow. "I mean— _never mind that_. I thought we were supposed to be practicing our duelling skills, not discussing my relationship with James."

Regulus rolled his eyes and gestured at the bare wall. "By all means," he drawled.

Hermione lightly glared at him and walked towards the wall. _'We need a place to practice our spells,'_ she mentally thought as she walked thrice in front of the bare wall. The familiar wooden door of the Room of Requirement materialised and wordlessly, Hermione pulled the door open and walked inside.

A huge beam immediately appeared on her face. The Room provided a familiar set-up to when Dumbledore's Army frequented it. The floors were spelled with a Cushioning Charm and the whole room was devoid of furniture. The ceiling was as high as the one in the Great Hall, enough to send a person spiralling up without hitting him against the roof. There were also practice dummies scattered around. There were a few bookshelves pushed against the walls too, with brimming books about Defence Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Transfiguration, and even Duelling itself.

"Holy shite," Regulus breathed beside her as he strolled inside. Hermione glanced at the bewildered Slytherin, amused at how his grey eyes were alit with wonder and excitement. "This is still the same room, isn't it?"

"Yes," she said, keenly watching as Regulus started touring around. "The Room shifts to accommodate whatever you need as of the moment."

The wizard beamed widely and pulled out his wand. "What should we practice first?" he eagerly asked.

"The Disarming Spell, of course," she stated without much thought.

Regulus frowned. "Pettigrew," he ground out, "that's a basic Defence spell. Even a second year could cast it with his eyes closed."

Hermione's lips twitched upward, expecting that reaction from him. "But you see, Duelling isn't about casting the most complicated spells that require ostentatious wand waving," she started. "In order to survive in a fight, the most basic spells can save your life. For example, _'Expelliarmus'_ will disarm your opponent immediately, leaving him defenceless. Then, you'd have the upper hand."

He frowned, begrudgingly understanding what she meant. "It's still too _basic_ ," he insisted. "I can cast it without batting an eyelid, Pettigrew."

"Can you?" she asked with a challenging glint in her eyes. "Show me, then."

His frown deepened when Hermione deftly pulled out her wand from her robe. "Go on," she urged.

" _Expel—_ "

But before he could even finish his spell, his wand had already flown out of his hand. Hermione caught it with a small smirk on her face. "Too slow," she said.

"Did you just disarm me _nonverbally_?" he snapped, his expression a mixture of awe and irritation.

"If you must know," she started, "the Disarming Spell is one of my strongest spells." Memories of running away with Harry and Ron flashed in her mind's eye as she deftly shot a well-aimed, silent _'Expelliarmus'_ against the Death Eaters, making them defenceless.

Hermione had feared that the skills she's developed after being on the run as Hermione Granger would be forgotten in her new body. Admittedly, she had to practice a few times herself, just to perfect a spell Hermione Granger could cast without much thought. Her young body was still accumulating the magical reserve her previous counterpart had gained from years of experience. But despite these struggles, Hermione could still perform a nonverbal Disarming Spell within seconds. The brunette hazarded it was because she had used it so much in her past life - her magic was working on muscle memory.

"Again," she said, throwing Regulus's wand back at him. "Disarm me again."

Looking more resolute, Regulus squared his shoulders and aimed his wand at Hermione once more. " _Expell—_ "

And once more, his wand flew out from his grasp and into Hermione's awaiting hand. "Too slow," she repeated. She threw his wand at him again and positioned herself properly. "Again."

Regulus's cheeks grew red as his eyes dangerously flashed.

Hermione beamed in return.

Now, he was taking this seriously.

* * *

**October 20, 1978**

They had just finished practicing the Reductor Curse and Hermione was spent. Regulus was becoming a decent Duelling partner, and although nobody could beat Harry Potter's prowess with Defence Against the Dark Arts spells, Hermione thought Regulus was becoming a better opponent.

Ever since their first meeting and practice of the Disarming Spell, Regulus had been rigorous. Hermione had told him countless times they still had NEWTs to focus on, but his newfound fervour to continue practicing spells surprised Hermione greatly.

" _There may come a time when you have to use as many well-aimed basic spells as possible,"_ he had told her one time. _"And that time may be sooner than what we've hoped for."_

Although she agreed with his sentiments, Hermione still wanted to focus on her NEWTs classes. So, during break times, she'd urge Regulus to read a chapter of their textbook before resuming their Duelling lessons. Regulus kept on owling her to meet him at the Room of Requirement, but Hermione had still promised to sometimes study with her Ravenclaw roommates. She had to ditch him quite a few times, much to his disgruntlement, but Hermione always made up by tiring Regulus to the bone during their other duelling sessions, until both of them could barely walk.

There were sessions too when Regulus would teach her a particularly Dark spell that would be useful on the battlefield. Once upon a time, Hermione Granger may have been wary about using these spells. But after going through war and numerous battles that had almost cost her life, Hermione begrudgingly admitted these Dark spells could be of use, if she only used them with good intentions in mind.

" _Every spell is a Dark spell if your intention is to hurt, you know,"_ Regulus had told her. _"Even a simple Reductor Spell. Imagine if you used that on a person."_

Hermione didn't need to imagine because she already _knew_ the effects of using the Reductor Spell on a person. The image of Dolohov, blood and innards bursting everywhere after Harry had used _'Reducto'_ on him during one of their runs, resurfaced in her mind.

"Pettigrew, did you know?" Regulus suddenly asked.

She shook her head free from her thoughts and glanced at the boy lying beside her. Regulus had one of his arms tucked underneath his head, his eyebrows knitted together in deep thought. "Know what?" she asked, adjusting herself on the floor to find a more comfortable position.

"You duel like a warrior."

Hermione froze at his comment, unsure how to reply.

When she hesitantly looked back at Regulus, his grey eyes were boring straight into her soul. "And why do you say that?" she softly asked, barely breathing as her heart thudded wildly inside her ribcage.

"You fight as if you've fought _before_ ," he continued. "Which is preposterous, because we've spent seven years in this school together and there hasn't been any opportunity to duel. I know Flitwick tried to organise a Duelling Club before, but it was dissolved almost immediately when one student almost lost his life and his parents complained. Pity, really, because it would have been a fun way to exercise your Duelling skills. I at first thought it may be because you have an older brother, incorrigible at best, which is why you had to defend yourself most of the time if he was being annoying. But this is Peter Pettigrew we're talking about."

"What does that mean?" she asked in annoyance, taking offense.

Regulus rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean," he snapped with a sigh. His grey eyes landed on hers once more and added, "You've done this before, haven't you? Fought in a battle."

He looked genuinely curious, not entirely suspicious, but the way his grey eyes glinted determinedly under the poorly-lit Room of Requirement meant he wouldn't drop this subject at all.

"Yes," was her simple answer.

In spite of her loudly beating heart, she smiled when Regulus's eyes widened in disbelief. "Don't you think—" He paused, frowning deeply again. Hermione could practically see how his thoughts raced in his mind. "Don't you think it's time I learn how you know all things you're not supposed to? Voldemort, his horcruxes, complicated warding spells a seventeen-year-old shouldn't know at all, your weird, fighting stance… _everything_."

"Regulus…"

"Aren't you tired?" he blurted out, cutting her off. "Of keeping everything to yourself? You've dropped numerous hints. I've noticed them all, but I can never piece them together until _you_ tell me what's really going on." His eyes bore into her blue eyes once more. "I'm risking my life for this bloody cause and you seem to know everything. I _want_ to know everything, Hermione Pettigrew. I want to know what I'm getting myself into, _why_ you're willingly helping me bring down a monster when you can hide behind your annoying Gryffindor friends." A wry smile appeared on his face. "With everything that's been happening so far, I sometimes think you were Sorted into the wrong House."

Tears prickled in her eyes as she gazed heavenward. Hermione could make out numerous scorch marks from their various spells on the high ceiling.

She wondered whether it was wise to tell Regulus everything. She trusted him, more than she wanted to actually, but she wasn't entirely sure if he would believe her when she revealed the truth.

But he was right: she was tired. So very tired of keeping everything to herself, of watching how some things she knew should happen in the past, had never come into fruition. There was no one to share her great burden of the possible future and it sometimes drove her mind.

Perhaps, it was already the right time to reveal everything to Regulus.

"I'm not… I'm not from here."

She refused to look at Regulus after her claim, wondering what expression he was making. A few tears escaped from her eyes and she shakily lifted her hand to brush them away.

"A little elaboration would help, Pettigrew."

His voice sounded strained, a tad disbelieving too, and Hermione was forced to glance at him. Regulus's grey eyes were still intently latched onto her form, looking as if he'd be able to figure her out just by staring at her.

"You're not going to believe me at all," she pointed out with a soft, shaky laugh.

Regulus sighed. "After everything we have gone through these past few months," he started, "I think I'm already immune to whatever bomb you're going to drop on me."

Hermione chuckled in spite of herself and brushed a few more wayward tears away. "It's… it's bloody weird _and_ complicated," she started. "But, for starters, I came from a time when there was an unending war between the Light and Voldemort."

He looked mighty confused. "But… but there's an unending war between the Light and Voldemort right now," he claimed.

"No, this is just the First Wizarding War," she revealed. "What I'm talking about is the Second Wizarding War."

The Slytherin looked gobsmacked. "You mean to say," he deliberately continued, "Voldemort will still be the villain of this story once again, when the Wizarding World enters its second war?"

Hermione dumbly nodded her head.

A deeply disturbed look settled on his face. "So… you're a time traveller?"

The brunette frowned. "Well… yes _and_ no," she said with a dubious smile.

"What the fuck does that even mean?" he cried incredulously.

Hermione sighed. "Where I came from – _when_ I came from – I was on the run with my best friend, trying to unearth the remaining horcruxes of Voldemort. But the war dragged on for years, and my best friend – the beacon of all light and hope – grew tired from all the fighting, especially when it was obvious that everything was so hopeless. And so… we wanted to… we wanted to escape. From our reality. From _everything_."

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw how surprise flitted in Regulus's grey eyes. "It was perhaps the most cowardly thing we'd ever done," she confessed, more tears slipping down from her blue eyes. "But my best friend… my best friend was so tired and if he'd lost hope, then… then so had I. And so, he found this dark book and pointed out a dubious potion, which spoke of sweeping us away from our current reality. It was a very vague potion, with not enough description to assure us of when or where we'd be going. I was sceptical of the potion, but he was persistent, so we spent the next few weeks brewing the potion until it neared its completion. But when we only need the last ingredient, the Death Eaters found us and—"

Her tongue turned thick and it started getting difficult to breathe.

"This best friend of yours?" Regulus softly asked. "What happened to him?"

Hermione tightly closed her eyes as the memory of that fateful day came crashing back to her. "He was shot with the Killing Curse before he even had the chance to drink the potion," she brokenly whispered, the grief of Harry's death engulfing her whole. "I – I, well, I _knew_ I was hit with at least three Killing Curses, but I was able to drink the potion as instructed. The next time I woke up, I was a baby, bearing a different name."

"You weren't Hermione Pettigrew?" This time, Regulus sounded genuinely surprised, as if among all the things she had revealed so far, that was the most preposterous thing of all.

This brought a small smile out on Hermione's face. "No," she replied. "My name was Hermione Granger. I was a Muggle-born, you know. With dentists as parents and born as an only child. Trust me, it was a huge shocker for me too. I didn't know the potion would give me a _new_ life. I half-expected it would be a Time-Turner of some sort, bringing me to a different timeline as myself, as Hermione _Granger_. But the potion stayed true to its word – I was brought as far away from my reality as possible. It gave me a new identity, a new appearance… a new _family_. So, to answer your question, _no_ I don't think I time travelled. Because if I time travelled, I would still have been myself." She took a deep, shuddering breath and glanced back at Regulus. "Reborn seems more fitting, I think."

The wizard now stared at her with unfiltered disbelief. "Blimey," he groaned, lifting his fingers to start massaging the bridge of his nose. "I stand corrected. I'm not immune yet to all of your revelations. Holy _shite_ , Pettigrew— _hell_ , is that even your name?"

Hermione wryly laughed. "Always will be, I'm afraid," she said. "Hermione Granger seems like a distant dream to me now. I still have most of her memories. I _know_ how to procure the horcruxes, or… or what the future of the people in this timeline will be…" She trailed off as she uncertainly looked at Regulus, wondering if he'd ever thought he might not survive this horcrux hunt at all. "But, I'm starting to forget my first visit to Diagon Alley, or what grades I got on my essays during fifth year. I've never really thought about it before, because they're just small things you easily forget. But recently, I started forgetting what shade of brown Harold Granger's eyes were or… or what image I always saw on Ron's freckles – it's—"

Her breath hitched and she was reduced to silence, grieving once again of the memories Hermione Granger had left behind.

"But I remember all her principles, her dreams, her feelings, her… her _priorities_ ," she continued. "Above all else, I remember how much she truly wanted to bring Voldemort down to make everyone she loved happy. We share the same sentiments still, you know. Which is why, despite my initial desire to turn a blind eye, to let everything unravel just the way it should be and to stand on the side-lines, I realised that I _can't_. Not intervene, that is. So, here I am now, helping Regulus Black, of all bloody people, to gather all of Voldemort's horcruxes and to destroy him once and for all."

She watched as a myriad of emotions flittered through his grey eyes. Regulus seemed undecided on what expression he would show, so instead, he hid behind his indifferent mask.

"Tell me," he rasped out, his voice cracking a bit, "you were a Gryffindor, weren't you?"

A laugh bubbled out of her lips. "Seriously?" she asked. "After everything I've said, that's the question you want to prioritise asking?"

"My mind still cannot grasp all the fucking information you just unloaded on me, Pettigrew," he said, a crazed smile now stretching on his lips. "Honestly? I think my brain's short circuiting right now. So please, _please_ , for the love of all good things holy, tell me: were you a Gryffindor? This Hermione Granger? Was she a Gryffindor?"

"Yes," she laughed. "A recklessly brave, bleeding Gryffindor."

"That explains your insane plans," Regulus pointed out, matching her laugh. "Only a truly brilliant, albeit _idiotic_ , Gryffindor could come up with those." The Slytherin laughed once more, the sound coming out from his lips sounding more panicked and maniacal. "Holy fucking hell, I mean— I can't believe— so everything you've said—" Hermione watched in amusement as Regulus clammed up and took a deep, shuddering breath. "Does… does anybody else know? Besides me?"

Hermione sadly shook her head. "Nobody knows I'm fraternising with you and hunting Voldemort's horcruxes," she said.

"Not even Dumbledore?" Regulus asked. "I mean, he's the poster wizard of the Light Side. I'm sure if he heard whatever you just told me, he'd be able to help."

She shook her head.

"Your friends? Your brother? _Potter_?"

She continued shaking her head. "You're the first one to know, actually," she said. "Consider yourself special."

Regulus clutched his head and breathed through his nose. This was the most rattled she'd ever seen the usually composed Black heir.

"So… so do you have any means of going back?" he asked.

"The potion didn't offer any antidote," Hermione said, brushing away the remaining tears in her eyes. "And, I don't think I can ever go back. Usually, the effects of a dark potion are irreversible. Besides, I'm not… I'm not Hermione Granger anymore." She clutched her light brown hair and forlornly smiled. "I'm Hermione _Pettigrew_ , with a buffoon for a brother and a sweet witch for a mother. If I ever attempted to go back, I guess I'd be dead anyway." She resolutely looked at Regulus. "I have no one to return to. Which is why I'm doing everything I can to save the people I've grown to care about in this world and for future generations."

A sardonic smile appeared on Regulus' face. "And you're so sure you can save them all?" he dryly asked.

Hermione's blue eyes – so clear and bright like the blue sky, as opposed to Hermione Granger's earthly dark brown – pierced him unwaveringly.

"Yes," she said. "I'll make sure of it."

* * *

**November 25, 1978**

Hermione hastily secured a booth inside the crowded pub, relieved that she was able to easily spy an empty booth. Merlin forbid if James suggested they go to Madame Puddifoot's instead of the Three Broomsticks, if it was too packed with people.

Today was the last Hogsmeade weekend before the Christmas break and James had owled her three days ago, wondering if he could drop by and buy her a few rounds of butterbeer and have lunch with her.

' _Aren't you busy with your training?'_ Hermione wrote for her reply.

' _Don't worry about me, Whiskers. Worry about yourself more, blimey. You worry too much about other people,'_ was his reply.

She agreed to meet him in the end, because truth be told, she'd missed him terribly. His letters were starting to become scarce because of his training. From what she gathered mostly from Anya, Peter was barely home and when he arrived, he'd instantly pass out due to exhaustion. Hermione worried deeply that Moody might be over-tiring his trainees, but Anya assured her that Peter always bounced back onto his feet after a well-deserved nap and a scrumptious meal. James and Sirius often dropped by too, just to be fed by her mother, and from what Anya wrote, it seemed like she was growing awfully fond of the two boys. She did say Sirius had attempted to prank her behind her back, but Anya caught it immediately and let Sirius endure an entire meal with a shiny, bald head as punishment for his audacity.

Hermione grinned at the thought, quite disappointed she hadn't been there to witness it. Sirius had been very careful with his hair, always claiming it was his best asset, and surely, he would have been horrified when it was tampered with. Hermione hoped they now knew that Anya shouldn't be trifled with.

Her eyes then magnetised towards the scenery outside the pub, noting that it had started to drizzle. The weather forecast that morning had predicted there would be a downpour soon. Hermione hoped James would arrive before the torrential rain came.

"There's my Head Girl!"

Warmth instantly spread in her heart when she heard James's voice. A silly, little smile appeared on her face and she swivelled around, excited to see him after so long.

But then, her eyes widened in surprise at the sight she beheld.

James was once again wearing a handsome three-piece suit, with his tie loosened around his neck. This time, though, instead of the Auror-in-training midnight black robes, James was wearing the official deep maroon robes of an Auror, with the Auror insignia proudly displayed on his breast pocket. She distractedly glanced at his hair and was mildly amused that it was tamer today, _marvellously_ tamer in fact, since his hair was stylishly parted like a proper Pureblood.

His smile brightened at her unabashed staring. Belatedly, Hermione noted _she_ wasn't the only one staring, as the other students crammed inside the quaint pub had also stopped whatever they were doing to stare wide-eyed at the newly appointed Auror.

"You made it!" she floundered as James slipped in the booth beside her.

"Well, I did say I was coming today," he cheekily replied.

A laugh slipped out from her lips when James wrapped an arm around her waist. "No, you buffoon, I mean you're an _Auror_ now!" she exclaimed.

James beamed proudly and puffed out his chest. "I look like a proper Auror now, yeah?" he said. "Finally, if you ask me."

"But – but _how_?" she asked, her eyebrows now knitting together at the middle. "It's only been five months since the start of your training. I thought the standard length of Auror training was at least eight months."

Before her eyes, the wizard beside her suddenly looked older than eighteen. "Ah, well," he said, hazel eyes darkening as he frowned at the wooden table. "With the climate today, the ministry thought it'd be best if the training of incoming Aurors was hastened." He absentmindedly lifted his hand to ruffle his hair, but then he remembered it was impeccably styled today. James scowled and placed his hand back on the table, curling it into a tight fist.

Hermione noticed it and immediately held his fisted hand and rubbed his knuckles with her fingers until he relaxed.

James gave her a small smile. "Moody's been rigorous since then," he continued, voice softer and calmer. "Almost killed us from all the training, that bloody git."

"And Sirius?" she asked, worry clouding her yes. " _Peter_?"

His lips stretched wider into a full-blown smile. "They made it too," he said. Hermione laughed in relief. "We just found out today, actually. I'm sure Wormy's going to send you a letter soon. Your brother was hilariously trying not to cry when Moody gave him the official maroon robes. Honestly, I think Moody has this soft spot for Peter. I swear he looked quite proud when Peter donned the robes."

"I thought Aurors didn't really have a uniform?" she asked, eyeing his attire once more with an appreciative gaze. "It's usually worn for ceremonies and official events, isn't it?"

James's hazel eyes twinkled with amusement. "Yes," he answered. "But then, if I didn't come here wearing this, I wouldn't have been able to see how starry-eyed I made you." A teasing smirk grew on his face when Hermione flushed. "How do I look, Whiskers? And don't you dare say 'really good' because your reaction a while ago says otherwise."

"Berk," she grumbled with a light glare.

He boisterously laughed and pulled her closer to his side. "I really missed you," he said, placing a kiss on the side of her temple. "You haven't broken any rules whilst we haven't been watching over you, have you?"

"Please," she scoffed, "I'm Head Girl. I _uphold_ the rules."

"Ah, iron fist," he teased as he fondly squeezed her hip. Humour on his face slightly fell as he neared his face closer. "There hasn't been any shady business here in Hogwarts over the past few weeks?"

She smiled and shook her head, noting how he sagged with relief. "What's happening outside?" she asked. "The ministry? The" – she surreptitiously looked around – "Order?"

His face darkened once more, all the humour completely disappearing. "You've read the news," he clipped.

"But everybody knows the ministry _lies_ ," she insisted. "What is really happening out there?"

"Hermione—"

" _James_ ," she cut off. "I'll be graduating soon and you're being ridiculous if you think keeping me in the dark will be for the best. You know I won't stand aside if the war becomes full blown. You know that."

A small smile, one of fondness and sadness combined, appeared on his face. "Of course," he said, reaching forward to brush a curl away from her forehead. He then expelled a deep sigh and held her hand. "The Daily Prophet isn't lying, though. Death Eater attacks are increasing. The Dark Mark's been seen at various locations in the country all in a span of a week. Voldemort's getting rigorous and even the ministry cannot contain the truth anymore. Bagnold is getting ready to become the Minister soon because the Wizengamot agreed Minchum's not fit to rule anymore."

"And… and the Muggle-borns?" Hermione thickly swallowed as she thought of Lily. She knew that Sev would fight tooth and nail to keep her safe, and the redhead wouldn't go down without a humongous fight, but Hermione still worried for her. She'd experienced first-hand how Muggle-borns were oppressed during the Second Wizarding War. It horrified her that the situation for Muggle-borns seemed to be more dangerous during the First War, since Voldemort was at his strongest, and his army was the largest and most invincible it had ever been.

James's lips thinned as he suddenly looked grim. "It's – they have it worse," he said. "I know you worry for Evans, but I can assure you she's fine." Disbelief appeared in his hazel eyes. "In fact, she recently joined the Order."

"Of course she did," Hermione said with a soft chuckle. "Lily's too fiery to just hide away."

"Snape too," he continued. Her eyes widened, prompting him to wryly smile. "Wherever Evans go, Snape follows, right? As an Unspeakable, Lily's been valuable to the Order. But of course, we're not privy to whatever task Dumbledore has given her. And Snape, _well_ , he's a Potions prodigy, so that's where Dumbledore assigned him. He's been brewing nonstop for medicinal supplies, Veritaserum – _any_ potions deemed to be important for this war." Warmth seeped into his eyes as a resolute smile grew on his face. "Everybody's doing their best just to fight. The pinnacle is approaching. That's what Dumbledore's been hounding on and on about, every time he has called for an Order meeting. The pinnacle is approaching and we must all get ready."

A shiver ran down Hermione's spine. If Voldemort was becoming persistent, then she and Regulus had to work double time to gather all of the horcruxes and find a way to destroy them all.

Then, to her surprise, James expelled a low chuckle, a sheepish look on his face. " _Merlin_ , now we've made everything depressing," he claimed. "I actually imagined this day more differently you know. Less talking, more kissing and touching…"

Her cheeks flushed once more at his suggestive smile.

"Berk," was all she could say.

**-ooo-**

They stayed for a few more hours, this time exchanging harmless anecdotes and never again breached the topic of war or the Order. Hermione would have loved to have known more, just to gauge whether she was running out of time, but she didn't want to see James wear such an expression again. They seldom saw each other anyway and she'd rather bask under his warmth and brightness for as long as she could.

"Oh shite, I almost forgot."

Hermione watched curiously as he pulled out a small envelope from his Auror robe that he'd long shrugged off.

His cheeks reddened when he passed the letter to Hermione. "It's not as stuffy as you think. I promise," he quickly reassured. "But Mum insists it's some Pureblood shite. Just… just see for yourself."

She turned the letter and quirked an eyebrow at the Potter insignia embedded on the wax seal. She daintily removed the seal, highly aware how James's nervousness seemed to increase tenfold. Curious, and a little nervous herself, Hermione finally pulled an expensive-looking parchment from the envelope and read its contents.

_The Potter family cordially invites  
_ _the Pettigrew family  
_ _to a formal Christmas dinner  
_ _to be held on  
_ _Monday, twenty-fifth of December, at 6 pm_  
_Dining Hall, Potter Manor  
_ _Wearing formal dress robes is highly encouraged_

_Please RSVP to James Fleamont Potter_

Hermione snorted in amusement and tried to stifle her bubbling laughter behind her hand. James by then had turned a brilliant shade of red.

"Oh, I _knew_ you'd react like this," he whined. "I told Mum it was too much, but she insisted we uphold stupid Pureblood traditions. Mum knows you have Selwyn blood, so she wanted the invitation to be proper." Despite his embarrassment, a laugh escaped from his lips. "I told her a simple 'Hey, Hermione. Want to have Christmas dinner with my family? You can invite your Mum and Peter too' would suffice, but she stood her ground. I'm not sure what she placed on that invitation, but it sends her a signal once you've received it."

James scowled when she continued giggling behind her hand. "Stop it," he cried. "You're making this more embarrassing than what I originally wanted."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she said in between chuckles. She finally removed her hand from her lips and held his instead. The humoured smile was still stretched wide on her face. James frowned at her smile, prompting her to squeeze his hand. "But yes, I'd love to. Have Christmas dinner with your family, that is. I still have to tell Mum and Peter, though, but I'm sure Mum will be over the moon."

"Yeah?" he asked, his cheeks reddening again but this time his hazel eyes shone with hope.

"Yeah," she said, fondly glancing at the ridiculously grandiose invitation. "It's been a while since I last saw your parents too. They've been stocking up on Dragon Pox cures, right?"

He snorted. "You've reverently sent them vials on _every_ occasion, Whiskers," he pointed out. "I'm sure they have enough to last them a lifetime."

A sheepish smile bloomed on her red face. "It's better to be sure," she insisted.

"Of course," he said with an indulgent smile.

Hermione made a face at his teasing before chancing a glance at her wristwatch. "I have to go soon," she announced, apologetic.

Clear disappointment appeared on James's face. "Already?" he protested. "We still have a few hours to go before students are required to return to the castle."

"I'm sorry," she said with a sad smile. "I promised MacMillan we'd go over some Prefects issue at the dormitory later. We really have no other free time anymore, since it's NEWTs year and all."

He deeply frowned. "Fine," he snapped. "I _can't_ believe MacMillan's the Head Boy, of all people."

"You had another wizard in mind?" she asked, shoving James out of the booth to let her through.

"Well—" His face stuttered in irritation and he sighed. "Well, _none_. I'm just bloody annoyed he gets to live with you for a year. Alone! In a dormitory." He narrowed his eyes. "He hasn't done anything shady towards you, has he?"

"Merlin, there's no need to get jealous over MacMillan," Hermione said, unable to stifle a laugh. "He's been nothing but decent. Besides, he ridiculously _worships_ you, said he'd like to live up to your legacy and all that crap."

His face cleared as a pompous smirk grew there instead. "Good," he said with a firm nod. "Bloke needs to know his place."

Hermione hit him with her pointy elbow, prompting him to scowl. "I was hoping your ego wouldn't make an appearance today but _there it is_ ," she said with an exaggerated eye roll.

James expelled a pained laugh and slipped an arm around her waist. "You like that about me," he insisted. "I know you do."

The brunette sighed as she grabbed onto James's Auror robe to pass to him.

"POTTER!"

Both of them flinched and glanced at the source of the exclamation. Dirk Cresswell, a fellow seventh year Gryffindor, was making his way to them.

"Blimey, it really is you," he said, thrusting his hand forward while James good-naturedly grasped it in a handshake. "Look at you. An Auror!"

Hermione rolled her eyes when he puffed out his chest and grinned pompously at the younger wizard.

"All right, Cresswell?" he asked, thumping him on the back.

"Managing," he said with a deft shrug. "It's NEWTs year after all. _Merlin_ , we miss your Transfiguration sessions. McGonagall's been teaching us some complicated shite again. The blokes and I wish the famous Transfiguration Master were here to tutor us, you know. Like the good, old times."

"Transfiguration Master?" she echoed, quirking an eyebrow in amusement.

James's face turned splotchy red, but it was Dirk who answered for her. "Potter's brilliant at Transfiguration. Didn't you know, Pettigrew?" he asked.

"Oh, I know," she replied. "But I didn't know he was called as such."

"It's just a stupid nickname," James claimed with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"But seriously, though," the Gryffindor continued. "Can't you make time for us? We promise to buy you a hot meal if you agree."

"Ah, sorry but I have to pass," he said with an apologetic smile. "I'll be sent on various Auror missions soon, so I cannot set a definite schedule - if ever." He frowned in deep thought, before his hazel eyes lit up. He then dropped an arm over Hermione's shoulder and pulled her forward. " _She_ is brilliant in everything, though. She used to tutor us back in the day, that's why we managed to become Aurors."

Dirk's eyes glittered when they landed on Hermione. "Brightest witch of her age," he said with a brilliant smile. "You don't mind if you tutor us, do you?"

"Well…"

"She makes pretty colour-coded schedules too," James added.

Hermione snorted when Dirk's eyes widened. "I'm quite strict. Or so I've been told," she said, ignoring James when he vigorously nodded his head to concur.

"That's fine," the seventh year Gryffindor said. "You'll do it, though? Tutor us?"

"I don't see why not," she said with a kind smile. "I usually study in the library, so you can just approach me if you like."

"Brilliant," he exclaimed with a wide grin. "I'll tell the blokes." He glanced at James once more and thumped him on the back. "It's really good to see you, mate. Be safe out there, yeah?"

"You too, Cresswell," he said, as the younger wizard bid his goodbye and left the Three Broomsticks.

Once he was gone, he glanced at Hermione and smirked. "Poor bloke doesn't know what he just got himself into," he teased.

"Shut up, Potter," she hissed as she pulled him out of the Three Broomsticks and into the streets. There was still a drizzle as they walked towards the thestrals, but Hermione didn't bother pulling out her wand to cast a makeshift umbrella. James didn't seem to mind walking under the rain either, already content with holding her hand.

A cold breeze brushed against her cheek and Hermione involuntarily shivered. She glanced at her jumper and frowned, annoyed that it didn't protect her enough from the frigid air.

"Cold, Whiskers?"

"A bit."

Hermione was about to pull her wand to cast a Warming Charm on herself, but James had already placed his heavy Auror maroon robes over her shoulder. "I'm soiling the hems," she protested, noting that, with her shorter height, the robes ended up hanging by the soles of her feet.

"S'alright," James said with a laugh, wrapping an arm over Hermione's shoulder to pull her closer to him. "Pokey can always clean that up."

The brunette sighed and didn't bother making another comment about abusing house-elves' kindness. Instead, she placed her hands inside his pockets to warm her hands.

But then, she paused as her fingers brushed against something familiar. Hermione grabbed a fistful of toffees and pulled them out. "You still have these in your pockets?" she asked, surprised.

James lightly blushed and sheepishly grinned at Hermione. "It has become a habit of mine," he confessed. "You've managed to make me love toffees too, you know. I don't leave the house without bringing some with me."

Hermione laughed and returned most of them to his pockets. She kept one and removed the wrapper before popping it inside her mouth.

The way the candy melted on her tongue instantly made her close her eyes and expel a soft, delighted sigh. Toffees always made her day extra better.

James suddenly halted, prompting Hermione to open her eyes. When she looked at the bespectacled wizard, James had this intense look in his eyes, his lips pressed into a firm, straight line.

"What?" she asked in surprise.

Before she knew it, James was already pulling her somewhere only he knew and Hermione had no choice but to stumble behind him.

"What? Where are you—"

They reached the back of the Shrieking Shack, completely hidden from the pathway near the thestral-drawn carriages. James pushed her quickly against the mossy, wooden walls of the shack and drowned her words by pressing his lips against hers.

Hermione stilled while James snogged her like there was no tomorrow. His hands were buried instantly in her hair, pulling her closer, pressing her harder against his well-toned chest. It didn't take too long for Hermione to snap out of her initial shock and furiously return his kiss.

She grasped onto his loose necktie to pull him closer. James huffed in surprise, but then chuckled against her lips.

His lips soon slowed down as his hands slid down to her waist, squeezing tight when she lightly bit his bottom lip. Warmth pooled in the pit of her stomach and embarrassingly, Hermione squirmed her waist against his just to dispel the uncomfortable feeling between her thighs. At the same time, she felt something hard poking against her hip, prompting her to freeze in horror.

James pulled away with an embarrassed laugh, knowing full well what had shocked her so much. "Ah yes, sorry about that," he said, shifting away from Hermione. "It's an inconvenient consequence after snogging you so…" He completely pulled away and awkwardly rubbed the back of his nape.

"Um," she muttered, unable to meet his eyes. "I wasn't… well. I wasn't expecting that."

"The erection?"

"WHAT?" she exclaimed shrilly, her face turning completely red. She tentatively glanced at James, whose eyes were already dancing with mischief. "No, I – I meant the furious snogging."

James snorted. "Well, it's your _entire_ fault," he accused. "I was planning on being a proper gentleman today because we were near Hogwarts, and I thought it'd be mighty weird if an Auror is seen kissing a student. Granted, we were together even before I graduated, _and_ you're of age already, but… you get the idea."

"My fault?" she echoed, eyebrows drawing together.

"Yes," he grounded out. "With the toffee."

"What does the toffee have to do with this?"

To her surprise, James expelled a deep sigh and gave her a withering glare. "Because when you eat toffees, you sound like you're having—" His face turned redder, but a frustrated look appeared on his face. "You always make these breathy, little sounds and— I mean, I've never seen anyone eat candies like that, with so much _pleasure_."

Hermione grew horrified, realising what he was trying to say. "You think that every time I'm eating toffees I'm having—"

Merlin and Morgana, Hermione wanted a hole to swallow her whole right there and then.

"Merlin's saggy bum, now you think I'm a dirty pervert," James cried.

"Because _you_ _are_ a dirty pervert, you berk!" she shrieked. "How could you even—" She thickly swallowed, too embarrassed to even form proper words.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," James said, laughing once more as he gathered Hermione in his arms. "I think we can both agree that you shouldn't eat toffees when I'm in the vicinity. Just to keep my sanity intact."

"Agreed," she grumbled under her breath, unwittingly melting against his warm embrace.

He softly laughed against her ear and brushed her hair away. "I'm sorry," he apologised again. "But you really _moan_ , Hermione. Blimey. Have mercy on me."

"Shut up, Potter."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone asked me before if the deathly hallows will be tackled in this story. The answer is no. To be honest with y'all, the deathly hallows kind of didn't make any sense to me because I think destroying the horcruxes to defeat Voldemort seems enough. So, I just made the Potters' Invisibility Cloak as one of their brilliant inventions. I think that makes more sense since they're a long line of inventors.
> 
> So, yay Regulus already knows! But the real question is, will the others know? Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter too! This is really one of my favorites hehe.
> 
> See you tomorrow!
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes)


	34. chapter thirty-three

* * *

**xxxiii.**

_**i'm not going anywhere, love** _

(Song for a Soldier by Sara Bareilles)

* * *

**December 20, 1978**

Hermione smiled when Regulus backpedalled upon entering the Room of Requirement.

"We're not going to practice today?" he asked, tentatively striding towards the armchair opposite to where Hermione was sitting. When Hermione shook her head, his lips curled in disdain. "I take it this is an exact replica of the Gryffindor Common Room?"

Her smile widened when he grimaced at how squashy his armchair was. "Hermione Granger's Gryffindor Common Room, yes," she said, abandoning any proper decorum to sling both of her legs across the armrest of her chosen chair. "It's cosier than the 1970's common room, if you must know."

Regulus grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, looking marvellously uncomfortable surrounded by Gryffindor red and gold, with littered overstuffed chairs and a roaring fire inside a small hearth. It wasn't an exact replica per se, because as what Hermione had confessed to Regulus weeks ago, she was starting to forget some minute memories of Hermione Granger. The Ravenclaw wasn't sure if the colours of the armchairs were the exact shades of red-orange, or if the huge, proud lion was placed on the east or west side of the common room. Nevertheless, the room provided by the Come-and-Go Room evoked feelings Hermione Granger had felt every time she had entered her common room, and that was enough for the brunette.

"Why aren't we duelling today?" he asked.

"Because it's the last day before the holidays," she exclaimed, before a lazy yawn escaped from her lips. Hermione rubbed her itchy eyes and got more comfortable on the couch, her eyelids already fluttering closed as the crackling fire lulled her into a peaceful rest.

"Didn't sleep well last night?"

She popped one eye open and sheepishly smiled at Regulus. "I slept like a baby," she corrected, "but I stayed up until the wee hours of the morning. My roommates and I lost track of time last night and managed to finish the fifth-year coverage of Potions all in one sitting."

"You and your friends are barmy," Regulus said with a snort. "I'm glad I'm not studying with you this year."

"Ah, so Crouch and Rosier are more decent study buddies than me?" she asked, fully opening her eyes as she shot a teasing smirk his way.

Regulus made a face. "I'd rather study with the Giant Squid, to be honest," he grumbled, prompting Hermione to laugh. A soft yawn then burst out of her lips once more.

"Maybe you should just rest today, Pettigrew," the Black heir pointed out. "I don't even know why you even asked me to meet you today."

Hermione shook off her tiredness and rummaged inside her pocket. She pulled out her crumpled list of horcruxes, with numbers one and two already crossed out. "We need to discuss this first before we leave Hogwarts," she insisted. She deliberately shifted on her armchair once more to sit up properly.

"I told you procuring the diary isn't going to be a problem," he reassured. "I'm already expected to attend the Malfoy Ball on Christmas Eve, and I will take the finest firewhiskey from Ogden's and goad the slimy Malfoy to drink as much as he can, until he's too piss drunk to even notice I've borrowed his signet ring to open his bloody secret room. It'll be fine."

"Your confidence makes me nervous, blimey," Hermione said as the corner of her lips lifted into a bemused smile. "This is _Malfoy Manor_ we are talking about, Regulus."

"Ah, but you see, I also grew up in that ostentatious manor. I know some of the passages like the back of my hand, most especially because I'm Narcissa's favourite cousin and Lucius Malfoy is quite fond of me. They won't even suspect me, I promise."

Hermione sighed, knowing it would be futile to reason with him. " _Fine_ ," she claimed in resignation. "Just owl me immediately if something comes up, all right?"

"And ruin your dinner with the Potters?" he asked with a snort. "How terribly rude of me, Pettigrew."

The brunette's cheeks flared up as she glowered at the smirking Pureblood. "The horcrux hunt is of utmost priority," she sniped. "You know that."

He quirked an eyebrow and casually leaned behind the overstuffed couch. He briefly glared in disgust at how squeaky it was, then glanced back at Hermione again. "I'm not sure if you are well versed with Pureblood traditions and etiquette, but when a Pureblood family formally invites the family of their heir's girlfriend to share a meal with them, it means marriage is already a prospect."

"Marriage?!" she shrieked.

If it were possible, his amused smirk grew. "I don't know why you think it's preposterous, Pettigrew," he softly drawled. "You're both of age and the Potter family is from a long line of Old Purebloods. They may not share the same ideologies with the Sacred Twenty-Eight, but they are still Pureblood. I'm sure Potter's parents knew what this dinner entailed. Besides, the Daily Prophet has already declared there's been a rise in marriage proposals over the past few years. No doubt it's because of the brewing war. The Potters most likely want to ensure that their long line will continue after James Potter."

"It's just a simple dinner!" she interjected.

"Your mother's a Selwyn," he pointed out. "I think she knows the implication of this dinner too."

Hermione didn't realise it was _this_ serious. James didn't look like he was bothered at all, so she had dismissed this invitation as a simple dinner invite. No wonder her mother's reply letter was a bit suspicious when she announced that they were invited over for Christmas dinner.

"I didn't ask you to come here to discuss Pureblood codswallop, dear Merlin," she grumbled, snatching onto the wrinkly parchment once more to vehemently point at Horcrux Number 4.

Regulus looked like he was having fun ruffling her feathers, but then his amusement simmered when he frowned at where her finger was pointing. "Slytherin's locket?" he asked. "What about it?"

Hermione took a deep breath to compose herself. "Has Voldemort borrowed Kreacher already?" she coolly asked.

"Kreacher?" he gasped, eyes growing wide. "You know about my house-elf too?" Hermione merely gave him a pointed glance, prompting him to sigh. "Of course you do."

Regulus slumped on his chair and ran a nervous hand through his hair. "As far as I'm concerned, the Dark Lord hasn't requested to borrow Kreacher yet." He frowned, looking deeply concerned. "Why do you ask?"

"Because," she grimly started, "in 1979, Voldemort ordered Regulus Black to lend his personal house-elf to him to hide away one of his horcruxes, Slytherin's locket." When his eyes grew larger, she grimaced. "I'm— you have to understand that it's something I don't want to do, but—" She swallowed down a growing lump inside her throat and tightly closed her eyes.

"You want this to happen," he firmly claimed. "You want Voldemort to borrow Kreacher so that he can hide the locket."

Tears welled in her eyes, her heart growing heavy at the sacrifice they had to make. "I'm so sorry," she said, noting with dismay how the room had started to grow colder, to grow _smaller_ , and Hermione belatedly wished she could have asked the Room of Requirement to replicate the airy common room of the Ravenclaw House instead. "If this doesn't happen, then I don't know how we're going to retrieve the locket."

"Tell me," he said, voice sounding strangely strained, "will Kreacher survive this?"

"Yes," she quickly said, vigorously nodding her head. "Yes, he will. I can assure you that he'll be fine after this excursion, because Kreacher lived during Hermione Granger's time."

Regulus stiffly nodded his head. "That is good enough," he gruffly said. "So, Voldemort might hide the locket sometime next year?"

"Yes," she replied. "Knowing Voldemort, I know he'd want to do grand things on special events. I have this inkling he'll hide the locket on New Year's Day."

"All right," he said. "I'll owl you immediately if he does borrow my house-elf. After he hides it, what then?"

Hermione pierced him with her blue eyes.

"Once he hides it in the cave," she started, "then we steal it on the very next day, of course."

Regulus expelled a deep sigh, suddenly growing wearier and resigned. "Of course."

* * *

**December 25, 1978**

"Hermione!"

Said witch blinked in surprise at her mother, who had barged uninvited into her bedroom. "Mum?" she deliberately asked, warily glancing at the bundles of dresses, the few tubs of Sleekeazy's, different accessories, and several shoes clutched in her hands.

"We have to get you ready," Anya said, groaning a bit as she deposited everything she'd brought on Hermione's bed. She brightly smiled at her daughter. "Come on, sweetheart. _Up_!"

Hermione's eyes widened as she looked at her wall clock. "But it's just two in the afternoon!" she cried, glancing at her Arithmancy textbook with disappointment in her eyes as Anya pulled her away from her wooden desk.

"We have to get you ready _now_ ," her mother ground out. "Tonight is perhaps one of the most important dinners in your whole life!"

Dread bloomed in her heart, remembering Regulus's words to her when they had met in the Room of Requirement a few days ago. "Please don't tell me this is about stuffy Pureblood traditions," she begged, heart speeding up at the thought that _this_ was a formal invitation for the Potters to meet the Pettigrews - with thoughts of marriage in mind. This had plagued her for days, equally taking up residence in her mind as much as the worrisome horcrux hunt. 1979 was fast approaching and if her computation was correct, _Harry_ was supposed to be conceived by the end of the year. But still, James and Lily weren't together. Lily still hadn't broken off her engagement with Severs and now… _now_ , James's family wanted to invite her family over due to some stupid Pureblood tradition.

Anya paused in her scurrying and glanced at Hermione. The younger witch watched as Anya carefully crafted an indifferent mask over whatever emotions she might have been feeling at that moment. This surprised Hermione, since Anya usually had no qualms showing her true emotions. Perhaps, Purebloods had the innate ability to school their emotions when the need arose.

"Listen, my love—"

Hermione groaned, not needing to hear any well-crafted lie from her mother. "So, this _is_ about marriage, isn't it?" she hotly asked.

Colour bloomed on both of Anya's cheeks. "Well," she started, brushing away a golden curl from her face, "I'm not going to deny that according to Pureblood traditions, when an heir's family formally invites the heir's girlfriend's family over dinner, marriage is already a prospect."

"Mum," she whined, plopping down on her seat once more, "I'm just _seventeen_."

Anya gave her an indulgent smile. "I was betrothed at fourteen," she revealed.

Hermione scrunched up her nose. "This is different," she insisted. "You brought us up without your stupid, stuffy Pureblood traditions."

She knew she was getting flustered over a _simple_ dinner, but Hermione was famously known as a stickler for rules. Granted, they never followed any annoying Pureblood etiquette, but if such rules existed regarding _marriage_ , then it made her mighty uncomfortable.

Anya finally sighed and sat on the edge of Hermione's bed. "Sweetheart, listen to me," she soothed, reaching forward to grasp both of Hermione's hands. "I know we don't follow such Pureblood rules. I may have been a bit excited when you gave me the Potters' invitation. You have to understand that this was _my_ life before I met your father and brought two, wonderful children into this world. But forgive me if this makes you uncomfortable." She smiled lovingly at her daughter and brushed away a wayward curl sticking to her cheek. "We can always owl the Potters if you don't want to attend this dinner. James _adores_ you very much. I'm sure he'll understand."

Her cheeks flushed red, embarrassed at her attitude towards her mother. "We can just pretend this is a simple dinner," she murmured under her breath. "I don't want to make James sad. He seemed a bit excited about it the last time he wrote to me."

Anya's smile was bright and warm. "All right," she said. "But, since it's still a formal dinner event, I think we have to attend in our best attire."

Hermione expelled a huge, resigned sigh. "Just don't go overboard, Mum. Honestly," she grumbled.

Her mother's Selwyn blue eyes twinkled with mischief. "When have I ever gone overboard?" she asked, followed by a lovely laugh.

The brunette growled.

Anya would definitely not hold back. She was sure of it.

**-ooo-**

"What's taking you both so long?" she heard Peter complain outside her bedroom door.

"A few more minutes, sweetheart!" Anya exclaimed in return.

Her mother turned to Hermione once more with glittering eyes. "You look beautiful, Hermione," she sighed, clutching both of her hands. "My mother would have looked at you approvingly. _This_ is how a proper Selwyn should look like."

"I'm a Pettigrew," Hermione insisted, but this claim only made Anya laugh. "You look beautiful yourself, Mum."

Anya was wearing a long, black dress, its hems brushing along the wooden floor. It was simple enough, void of any silly, little designs. The dress hugged her mother's tiny waist perfectly, accentuating the curves of her hips and boasting her flat abdomen. The dress modestly covered her chest with a bateau neckline, but more than half of her back was exposed. Hermione's eyes had widened at the creamy expanse of her back, but Anya merely laughed and told her this wasn't the most exciting dress she had ever worn.

"I may have worn this during my youth," she explained, looking every bit like the perfect Pureblood socialite. "When I ran away from home, I managed to pack a lot of my dresses. I may have hated how I was raised, but I cannot deny how much I loved getting dressed up."

Her mother tied her hair into an elegant, loose bun, before smiling warmly at her daughter. "Stop fidgeting, love," she lightly admonished. "You look wonderful."

Hermione knew it was pointless to delay the inevitable. She painstakingly walked towards her floor-length mirror and glanced at her reflection. Her blue eyes widened as her hand skimmed along her flowy, tulle skirt. Flower shaped appliqués were sequined on the bodice of her sapphire dress with the neckline forming a deep V-shape that was modest enough for a Pureblood affair. The sleeves of her dressed were formed by sheer, blue tulle, still with embroidered flowers, which ended up just down the middle of her arm.

It was perhaps the most elegant dress she had ever worn – past and present. Her mother had patiently applied Sleekeazy's on Hermione's hair, just to tame her bushy curls into cascading waves. She had then tied her curls into an elegant bun, sticking pink, ornamental flowers in her hair to keep it in place.

"You really look beautiful, sweetheart," Anya repeated, stepping behind Hermione to place a warm hand over her shoulder.

"Aren't we a bit overdressed?" she asked, slightly flustered and disoriented after seeing her reflection. She tinkered with the sapphire bracelet James had given her a few years ago.

Anya expelled a soft laugh and grasped Hermione's hand. "We're going to a Pureblood formal event, Hermione," she said. "There's no such thing as being too overdressed."

Her mother then proceeded to pull her out of her bedroom. Peter shot up from the couch and was about to complain once more at how they'd kept him waiting, but those words didn't leave his lips as he beheld his mother and sister. "Holy Mother of— _wow_." He beamed brightly and closed the remaining distance between them. "Aren't you a bit overdressed?" he asked, laughter bubbling up from his lips.

"Apparently, there's no such thing as being too overdressed for a Pureblood formal event," the younger witch answered with a sigh. "Well, _you_ look like a proper Pureblood too."

Peter wasn't wearing anything grand, unlike Hermione, but it was elegant enough for a formal dinner. He was wearing a deep blue dress robe that could almost be mistaken for black. His sandy hair was parted stylishly with some goop he usually used during formal events.

"I can't wait to see James's face when he sees you," he said with a humoured laugh.

"I just had a thought," Anya said, as she looped both of her arms around her children's. "When are you going to ask Mary for her hand in marriage, Peter?"

Her brother turned a deep shade of maroon. "W– what?" he stuttered.

"All these formal Pureblood dinners made me think of marriages," Anya said, sheepishly smiling at her youngest. She turned to Peter and gave him a pointed glance. "So, marriage, Peter?"

"Merlin, Mum, that's not our top priority right now," he floundered as he awkwardly rubbed his nape. "Mary's busy with Healer training and we don't really see each other often nowadays. I can assure you we don't really talk about marriage when we see each other. In fact, we don't do too much talking at all."

"Eww, Peter, we don't need to know that," Hermione said, scrunching her nose as the suggestive smile stretched wider on Peter's face.

Anya, on the other hand, quirked an eyebrow at her son. "So, you've never really talked about marriage before?" she asked, now leading them towards their fireplace. "Not even once?"

To Hermione's surprise, Peter was unable to meet either of their gazes. "Well…" He scratched his chin and smiled silly at his shoes. "We did talk about it before, especially after we found out about Lily's engagement to Snape and…" He seemed to catch himself and turned a brilliant shade of red. "We'll cross that bridge once we get there, Mum. There's no need to rush."

Their mother sighed, obviously disappointed with his answer. "I'd like to see grandchildren running around our home soon, you know," she asked hopefully.

Hermione wryly laughed. "With this climate, I don't think it's wise to bring children into the world right now," she said. "Lily told me once that she and Sev have decided not to have children yet. Not unless they're sure that Voldemort's _dead_."

"But we don't know when that will be," Peter gravely said, grasping onto a handful of Floo powder.

She sadly shrugged. "Better to make the world a safer place first before you bring in new lives," she said, paling a bit at how the emerald green that flared in their fireplace reminded her so much of the Killing Curse.

Peter was first to travel by Floo, followed next by Anya and then Hermione.

All thoughts of war and horcruxes were pushed to the very back of her mind as she stepped inside the fireplace and exclaimed the Potter's address.

She was still a tad flummoxed at how grand the foyer was, but she didn't have enough time to marvel at the beauty of said room as Pokey was already instructing her family. She smiled in amusement at the house-elf's choice of clothing today. She was swathed in a pristine-white cloak, with a polka-dot bowtie placed on top of her wiry head. Hermione lifted an eyebrow when she saw Pokey was wearing the same strappy shoes she had worn the last time she had visited the Potter Manor.

"Hello," Hermione said, daintily slipping beside her mother.

The house-elf's eyes widened in delight as she clasped her hands together. "Oh, Mistress Hermione!" she gushed out. Ridiculously, huge tears welled up in her tennis ball-sized eyes and tumbled down her wrinkly face. "Pokey _knew_ you would be the future Mistress of the House!"

Peter turned white as Hermione's eyes widened in horror. Only Anya seemed unfazed by the house-elf's words. "Where are the Potters, Pokey?" their mother kindly asked.

Pokey loudly sniffed and brushed away her tears. "You must follow Pokey," she said. "Come, come!"

Anya grabbed onto her children's hands and pulled them with her - the house-elf leading the small family along.

Hermione's nerves were going haywire as they passed through the familiar corridors. She saw portraits of the past Potter ancestors and even spied Linfred of Stinchcombe busily tending to his potted plants.

Anya squeezed her hand, sensing her nervousness. The younger witch gave her a grateful smile and took a deep shuddering breath just to calm herself.

Pokey stopped in front of an imposing door made of dark cherry wood. Hermione had never been here before. The last time she was here, the Potters had usually eaten their meals in a small dining hall around a circular table.

The house-elf then stood at her tallest height and pushed the doors open. "Pokey brings the guests, Masters and Mistress," she declared with a booming voice. The trio followed her inside and Hermione's eyes widened at how grand the whole room was. Besides the foyer, perhaps this Dining Hall was the fanciest of all the rooms in the Potter Manor. A long table was placed at the very centre of the huge room, with two glittering chandeliers hanging from either end. The table could accommodate at least twenty people at a time. The glass ceiling was high and domed, and Hermione was able to clearly see the night sky from where she was stood. A roaring fire was crackling behind where Fleamont sat, dowsing the whole room in a toasty warmth that was cosy and inviting.

"Welcome," Fleamont boomed.

Hermione tore her gaze away from the night sky to smile kindly at the Potter patriarch. His dress robes were as simple as Peter's, but it was obvious the material was far more expensive than what the Pettigrew family could afford.

"Lovely to see you again, Anastasia," Euphemia warmly greeted. Hermione's eyes widened at the Potter Mistress's dress robes. She wore a dramatic black, velvety, floor-length dress with red, drape-like sleeves that cascaded down from her shoulders and up to her wrists.

"Please, Anya is fine," her mother said with a lovely laugh.

Euphemia's eyes glittered when they landed on Hermione. "You look beautiful, Hermione," she said with a bright smile. "Doesn't she, James?"

Silence met her question and curiously, Hermione glanced at James. She flushed at his stunned staring. James's jaw was agape and he looked like he had stopped breathing all together. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw how Euphemia and Anya exchanged amused glances.

He looked like a proper Pureblood heir too, with impeccable dress robes she knew would be scratchy if worn. She wondered if he'd used Sleekeazy's to brush his hair away from his face. Although she'd always thought he was handsome with his windswept hair and hazel eyes glinting with trouble, Hermione hadn't been prepared to discover that James could look even _better_.

"James, son, are you quite all right?" Fleamont asked as he leant forward to touch James's shoulder. Beside her, Hermione heard Peter snicker softly under his breath.

James snapped out of his stupor and turned a deep shade of maroon that matched his mother's dress. "Y– yes, of course," he stammered, shaking his head to get rid of whatever haziness had settled in his brain. He sneaked another peek at Hermione and grinned broadly, like he'd won a Quidditch game after a rigorous match against the loathed Slytherins.

"Please, have a seat," Fleamont said, gesturing at the empty chairs beside them. Then, to the house-elf, he requested, "Pokey, we're ready for dinner."

"Pokey will bring out the food now, Master Fleamont," she said, bowing so low her nose almost touched the tiled floors. Then, with a snap, she was gone.

Anya led both of her children towards the table. Hermione went to trail behind Peter, but he suddenly pushed her away and wordlessly jutted his chin towards James. She glanced at the bespectacled boy, only to see that he was already expectantly looking at her and pulling out the chair beside him.

' _Of course,'_ she thought, lightly glowering at how her boyfriend smirked in amusement.

Hermione tentatively approached James, breath hitching as the distance between them shortened. His hazel eyes never left her form, as if she was the only person in the room. Up close, he looked more dashing with his perfectly styled hair and glinting eyes.

"Thanks," she murmured when he stepped aside and allowed her to sit down on the pulled-out chair. His fingers ghosted over the exposed skin of her forearm, igniting all of the nerves in Hermione's body, but James was soon sitting down on his own chair, looking very much composed once more.

"This will be a twelve-meal course, if you don't mind," Euphemia kindly explained, her hazel eyes sweeping from Hermione to Anya, who was sitting beside the Potter matriarch and Peter.

Peter matched Hermione's confusion, as they weren't really familiar with how Pureblood formal meals happened. Hermione couldn't understand, though, why Anya's eyes had widened in disbelief, or why James looked deeply embarrassed.

"Not… not at all," her mother finally said after composing herself. She threw James a meaningful glance before her blue eyes landed on her daughter. Hermione wordlessly lifted an eyebrow in curiosity, but Anya merely smiled reassuringly at her.

Pokey soon reappeared and snapped her fingers. "Pokey brings the hors d'oeuvres," she announced.

Food appeared on their table and Hermione noted a small piece of bread on her plate with white cheese spread on it.

This went on for hours, with Pokey reappearing and bringing a new course after they had finished the last one. Hermione's tongue felt funny after eating so many different kinds of food, but she admitted the courses were quite good. Peter looked terribly uncomfortable throughout, but he would make this delighted sound after tasting the newly brought out soup or the grilled salmon. Anya didn't look out of place at all; in fact, she easily slid back into being the proper Pureblood she was always brought up as, and Hermione wondered once more how her life would have differed had her mother not run away from home and met her father.

"How is school, Hermione dear?" Euphemia asked after Anya had finished recounting the new Muggle fashion of the 1970's.

She hadn't been addressed at all since the start of the meal and it surprised her when Euphemia called for her attention. "Quite well, Mrs. Potter," she politely replied.

"Still polite as always," Fleamont said with an indulgent grin.

"Please, I told you to call me Euphemia instead," James's mother replied. "James said you're Head Girl?"

Hermione smiled and nodded thrice.

"She still rules with an iron fist," James added with a teasing glint in his eyes. "I've talked with some of the blokes over in the Gryffindor House and they told me the Head Girl's been terrifying to interact with for the past few days. She managed to put the whole of the Gryffindor team in detention for two weeks after she caught them using the Quidditch Pitch without a permit at midnight."

Her cheeks turned ruddy. "Perhaps, your Gryffindor friends should know that Quidditch rules are formulated for a reason," she haughtily said as she snootily lifted her nose.

James's smile grew. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you didn't want the Gryffindor team to beat Ravenclaw in the next Quidditch match between them," he said.

Hermione snorted. "Please, even though the Gryffindors continue to train rigorously, my House's team this year are at their strongest."

"You don't even like Quidditch, blimey!" he expelled with a disbelieving laugh.

"It doesn't mean I don't like to _win_ ," she plainly said.

His smile fell, his hazel eyes considerably darkening after her simple claim. He had this intense gaze on his face and Hermione was brought back to that little snogging session they'd had, hidden behind the Shrieking Shack. He leant closer, his smile now morphing into a smirk. James suddenly looked very dangerous to be around, like he was ready to pounce on her, to hell with bloody decorum and propriety. "Competitive as always, I see," he lowly whispered. "Very bossy too."

"Of course," she breathily replied, wonderfully distracted at how pink his lips were or how the browns of his eyes almost engulfed the green.

 _Merlin_ , what were they talking about again?

Peter loudly coughed behind his hand, dispelling the haze that had settled in Hermione's brain.

Hermione's eyes widened in horror as she finally remembered where they were. Her cheeks turned a deep shade of red as she immediately grasped onto the glass of icy water beside her plate.

She heard James's low rumble as he pulled back on his chair, his cheeks also dusted with pink.

The brunette surreptitiously looked at her mother as she downed the glass. Anya's eyebrows had reached her hairline, deeply amused. Hermione's cheeks turned even redder at her mother's suggestive smile.

Hermione refused to look at Euphemia or Fleamont as she was too embarrassed to see how they would react with their blatant _flirting_ , in front of their _bloody_ parents, whilst they were eating a _goddamn_ formal meal.

Merlin and Morgana, somebody shoot her now.

"Desserts?" Fleamont gleefully asked, clapping his hands so loud Hermione flinched.

"Desserts sound lovely," Euphemia said, followed by a laugh which Hermione knew had no connection whatsoever to the incoming desserts.

**-ooo-**

They moved to the Drawing Room after they'd finished dinner. Pokey had brought tea upon Fleamont's request and Hermione had been quietly sipping her own cup, smiling warmly at how Anya conversed with the Potter matriarch. Anya and Euphemia looked like they'd been friends for a really long time, and Hermione was happy at how easily her mother could talk with the older witch.

Fleamont expelled a booming laugh that reverberated through the walls. Hermione glanced to where he sat, with both James and Peter raptly listening to whatever adventure he was recounting. One thing she had deduced was James's adventurous streak had definitely come from Fleamont. The older wizard always got this certain gleam in his eyes, that she'd seen James have most of the time.

"May I be excused?" Hermione then softly asked.

"Of course, my dear," Euphemia said with a kind smile.

Anya squeezed her arm before letting her stand. As she neared the door, she briefly caught James's eyes and smiled.

Hermione once again found herself gazing at the different portraits of the past Potter patriarchs. She greeted some who'd politely addressed her with curiosity in their eyes, probably wondering who this well-dressed brunette was. She waved her hand at Linfred before going into one of the lavish powder rooms in the west wing.

When she walked out of the room, Hermione decided to aimlessly wander through the corridors instead of returning to the Drawing Room. As she meandered around, Hermione couldn't help but imagine Harry Potter once more - bright-eyed as he ran through corridors and wreaked havoc. She didn't doubt that he'd have grown up with James's mischief, if he'd been raised properly by his parents.

She chanced upon a room she had never been in before. Hermione usually went to the library, so she had never carefully perused the huge Potter Manor the last time she'd been here.

The room she stumbled upon looked like a Family Room of sorts, with the walls decorated by a huge tapestry of the whole Potter family lineage. This room was strangely reminiscent of the Black Family Tapestry Room of Grimmauld Place. The only difference was, the family tree was devoid of any scorch marks which indicated disinheritance.

Despite their staunch support for blood equality, the Potter family had managed to marry into famous Pureblood families for years. Hermione knew there had been a few Muggleborns and Half-bloods introduced centuries before, but recently, the family had welcomed Pureblood witches and wizards into their growing family.

She wandered down the wall until she found James, his branch stemming from Euphemia and Fleamont. Hermione brushed her fingers against his name and traced an imaginary branch that would bridge him with Lily Evans, and would finally lead to Harry's name.

Her heart stuttered at the thought - of Harry with James's face and ridiculous hair and Lily's bright, emerald eyes. Dread bloomed in the pit of her stomach and tightly wrapped around her heart, until Hermione was forced to look away to dispel whatever gloomy feelings she was having.

She tore her eyes away from the tapestry wall and instead, gazed at the imposing, large portrait hanging proudly in the centre of the whole room. It was of the three Potters, with Euphemia sitting primly on an ornate, wooden chair, whilst Fleamont and James stood behind her. The portrait looked recent, as James was wearing the thick-rimmed glasses she had given to him for his graduation gift. There were small frames decorated below the huge portrait on top of a shelf, showing different milestones of James throughout the years. While the huge portrait was frozen in time, the different picture frames were moving with life. There was a small picture of James, perhaps when he was three or four years old, zooming over a small patch of land on a toy broomstick and having the time of his life. There was also a picture of him celebrating his sixth birthday, where he toothily grinned at the camera before blowing out his candles.

The shelf was decorated with more pictures of James alone, than of his family together. Euphemia and Fleamont clearly doted upon their only son, as every picture frame spoke of adoration and warmth - like how his parents always interacted with him.

Hermione smiled warmly and walked farther away from the shelf, only to stand in front of the painting of the whole Potter Manor. Like the imposing portrait of the Potters, this painting was also frozen. Hermione's eyes instantly recognised the small cabin where Remus hid during his transformations, and the whole expanse of land that was owned by the rich, Potter family.

When Hermione's eyes went back to the Potter Manor once more, they slowly squinted in confusion. There was a small tower on the east side of Potter Manor that she swore she'd never seen before. She'd been exploring the fields outside when she was here previously, but she had never seen that small tower at all.

"What are you doing here?"

She jumped in surprise and swivelled around. James was standing at the threshold, an amused smile on his face.

"I was… exploring," she softly said, glancing curiously at the Potter Manor again. "This is the whole Manor, isn't it?" She gestured at the still painting of the beautiful establishment.

She heard his footsteps until he was standing beside her. "Yes," he said, hazel eyes also taking in the lovely picture. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw how his eyes had softened with tenderness. Hermione smiled in return, knowing that, although James found Hogwarts wonderful, Potter Manor would always be his home.

Hermione lifted a finger and pointed at the small tower adjoining the east wing. "What happened to that?" she asked. "I've never seen it before."

It may have been her imagination, but a panicked look flitted across James's face. "Well – some _terrible_ accident, I think," he hastily said. "Mum doesn't really like to talk about it."

Hermione quirked an eyebrow at his uneasiness, but James was already pulling her away from the picture of their Manor.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, deciding to drop the subject in the end.

James deflated in relief and sat Hermione down on one of the cream couches in the room. "I was beginning to wonder where you'd run off too," he reasoned, settling beside her. He glanced at the lively pictures on the shelf and smiled. "Why'd you choose to explore this room of all places?"

"I haven't been here before," she confessed. " _You_ didn't show this room to us when we visited last time."

"Because it'd be mighty embarrassing for you to chuckle over my stupid baby pictures," he grumbled, his cheekbones turning red. "Only Sirius has seen this room before."

"Speaking of Sirius, where the hell is he?" she asked. "I was expecting he'd be joining us for dinner today."

"He opted to crash in with Moony tonight," James explained. "It's Christmas after all and he didn't want to leave Remus alone."

"They could have joined us tonight, you know," she pointed out.

There were suspicious red spots that appeared on James's cheeks. "Err… this isn't some simple dinner, Whiskers," he deliberately said, unable to meet her eyes. "Sirius and Remus didn't want to ruin it."

A blush crept from her chest up to her face, once again remembering Anya's words. "Um, right," she nervously said. Desperate to change the subject, she noisily cleared her throat and said, "So, about those baby pictures. Aren't you going to show them to me?"

James slowly frowned. " _Why_?" he petulantly asked. "There's a reason why I didn't show this room to you when you came over last time. Like I said, only Sirius knew this place and he mercilessly teased me for _ages_ when he saw my naked baby pictures."

Her eyes lit up. "Naked baby pictures?" she asked, a teasing grin easily slipping on her face.

His cheeks darkened at the interest in her eyes. "You won't stop pestering me until you've seen them, will you?" he groaned.

"You know me very well, James Potter," she said as a chuckle bubbled out of her painted lips.

He groaned once more before pulling out his wand. With a deft swish, a small hatch on the coffee table appeared. "I spelled the pictures invisible for _years_ just in case a curious, pretty witch stumbled upon this ridiculous room," James explained with a sigh as he opened the latch and revealed piles of photo albums. He grabbed a red, leather-bound album and passed it over Hermione. "Not a word about _anything_ you see here, Pettigrew."

"I won't," she teased. "Marauder's honour."

James snorted at her vow and silently watched as she started to peruse through the photo album.

A delighted laugh escaped from her lips as she saw various pictures of infant James taking a bath, happily splashing water around. "Aww, look at that cute little bum," she cooed, grinning widely at one picture where baby James was falling off the edge of the bath tub, giving her a full view of his plump butt cheeks.

"Hermione," he whined. "This is _very_ mortifying for me. Keep your comments to yourself."

She merely laughed and continued to browse. She paused at a picture showing a brightly smiling Euphemia as she cajoled toddler James to smile and wave at the camera. The tot seemed much more interested in suckling on a few strands of Euphemia's light brown hair, however.

"You really have your mother's eyes," she said, fondly brushing over the lovely photograph.

"I always get that a lot," he said with a laugh. "People always say I look exactly like my father, except for my eyes."

"Huh," she said, her smile turning slightly dejected. "Where have I heard that before?"

Her fingers stilled over a picture where James, probably six or seven years old, was happily tittering over a bubbling cauldron until there was a soundless explosion that bathed his face in soot. The surprised child burst into tears and the whole picture looped once again.

"One of Dad's botched up potions," he explained, fondness heard clearly in his voice. "Mum was so incensed that day, I think. Why my father thought of taking me to his Potions lab, we don't really know. I've been banned ever since from sneaking inside. Dad has since warded that room with a lot of complicated magic and one of my favourite pastimes during summer was trying to remove the wards."

"Have you ever been successful?"

James sheepishly grinned. "Dad's really brilliant with Charms," he explained. "I've gone through some of the wards already, but I haven't removed them all completely."

He then grabbed another photo album as Hermione had reached the end of the one she was holding.

She browsed through a series of photos, this time of James during his younger days at Hogwarts. He was mostly accompanied by his best friends, and Hermione chuckled at some of the pictures of Peter. There were also pictures of them goofing around in Hogsmeade and eating ice cream at Fortescue's.

It was surreal, seeing their friendship through a series of pictures - because she'd _seen_ these moments. Her lips tugged into a small smile; she really had been deeply entangled with these bunch of rowdy boys for years now, hadn't she?

Hermione paused once she saw a picture of her together with the boys on her last visit to the Potter Manor. She remembered this photo being taken, hours before she and Peter had gone home. Fleamont had his camera on hand and had been forcing them to stay still while he took a picture. But Sirius had surreptitiously placed a lizard in Remus's breast pocket for a prank. Remus screamed bloody murder when the lizard flew onto his neck, managing to hit Peter on his nose. Hermione's photographed self was laughing madly at the sudden turn of events. She grinned as the loop continued, and as her finger's brushed towards James on the photograph, her smile froze. Whilst the ruckus continued to happen beside him, James would also laugh at the expense of his best friend. But then, when Hermione burst into laughter, his hazel eyes would land on her and his cheeks would turn red. The picture would loop once more and no matter how many times she stared at it, the image would stay the same.

She slowly looked up from the photo album to glance at James, and was surprised to see that he was already looking at her. He was wearing that intense gaze once more, but his face looked softer and more open. Her heart quivered when a small, handsome smile grew on his face and he reached forward to cradle her jaw against his calloused palm.

Her eyes fluttered closed even before his lips had completely pressed against hers.

James was kissing her differently this time. Usually, he kissed her with such ferociousness that he always managed to take her breath away. This time, he was kissing her deliberately, _surely_ , as if it was as simple as breathing or waking up in the morning.

Despite the tenderness of the kiss, he still managed to take her breath away.

A contented sigh escaped from her mouth when he slowly pulled away. His lips had barely left hers when he breathed out, "I love you, Hermione."

Her eyes popped open in shock. James's hazel eyes looked serious and earnest as they bore into hers. His warm hand was still cradling her jaw and Hermione wondered if she'd merely imagined it.

"What?" she breathily asked.

He beamed so brightly as his other hand cupped her cheek. "I love you, Hermione," he firmly repeated.

Her heart stopped beating all together as her mind tried to wrap around his startling confession. _'Love,'_ her mind chanted, again and again, until it was all she could hear inside. _'He loves you.'_ Her ears buzzed at his words as she pulled away almost instantly.

" _Why_?" was all her frazzled mind could conjure up.

James looked unsure for a moment. "That's not exactly the proper response for such a confession, Hermione," he lightly commented, a nervous chuckle escaping from his lips.

Tears started welling up in her eyes and she ignored his words. "Why me?" she added in a whisper.

That tender look settled on his face once more, spreading over his chiselled nose and square jaw and colouring his hazel eyes to look bright and warm. "Why _not_ you?" he asked in return, a small laugh tumbling out of his lips. "You're… you're brilliant and _beautiful._ Merlin, have I told you yet how stunning you look today? How you almost made me abandon whatever proper decorum Pureblood society dictates when you walked inside the Dining Hall? Because if not, then Merlin Almighty, Hermione Pettigrew, you're… you're beautiful. I can't believe I spent most of my life _not_ looking at you."

Her heart thudded loudly inside her ribcage and she wouldn't be surprised if James could hear it.

She knew this was coming, of James inevitably confessing, but she had hoped it wouldn't be this soon. Harry's eyes swam into her mind and grief bloomed in her heart, knowing that if James already loved her – if _Lily_ was going to marry Sev soon – then Harry Potter with his dishevelled black hair and bright, emerald eyes really wouldn't be born into this world.

"James—"

What was she going to reply? More importantly, what did she _feel_ about him right now? Hermione hated how her feelings for him hadn't wavered at all, but instead, had grown like the mighty oak tree she and her best friends had loved to sit under near the Black Lake. The roots had grown wide and deep, and she was afraid it would be difficult to uproot it.

"You're really not going anywhere, are you?" she managed to whisper as a small tear slid down from her cheeks.

Brief surprise flittered through his hazel eyes. "I'm not, blimey, why do you always think I'm going to leave?" he asked, smiling warmly down at her crumpling face, as he brushed her tears away.

' _Because you do,'_ she thought to herself. _'You will. Soon enough.'_

"There you are!"

Both James and Hermione looked at a suspicious Peter standing near the threshold of the room. Peter's eyes narrowed when he spied Hermione's glassy eyes.

"Did something happen?" he asked in a low voice.

The brunette looked away to hastily wipe the other forming tears, while James stood up and expelled a booming laugh. "Peter, honestly, we're not doing anything shady," he said, blessedly distracting Peter until Hermione was able to fully compose herself.

"That's what a _shady_ person would say," Peter hotly pointed back.

Hermione slowly stood up and trailed behind James, who by then, had thrown an arm over her brother's shoulders and had steered him out of the room.

"Are you all right, Hermione?" Peter worriedly asked, peeking over his shoulder to glance at his sister.

"I'm fine, Petey. Don't worry," she said, clearing her throat when her voice cracked a little.

Her brother didn't look convinced at all, but James distracted him once more by starting another conversation about the Auror department.

Hermione was contented to walk behind the two men, heart still racing from what had transpired back in the Family Tapestry Room.

Her blue eyes landed on the back of James's head, his hair perfectly gelled to stay in place. She thought of Harry, whose hair had never stayed in place, always stubbornly discovering more angles to make his mop of raven hair as dishevelled as possible.

More tears welled in her eyes at the thought she'd managed to make this man fall in love with her. _Completely_ , if she were to guess after seeing how his hazel eyes had turned earnest after confessing his feelings for her.

Hermione was sure she should have replied saying something back there, something she wasn't sure if she was ready to say… something she knew she might regret in the end.

' _I'm sorry, Harry,'_ she thought. She'd been apologising to Harry countless of times for the past few weeks, but the guilt never seeped away.

James released a loud laugh in reply to one of Peter's quips. Her eyes then slid down to his hand and she swallowed the building guilt once more.

' _I'm sorry, Harry,'_ she repeated, as she reached forward and held James's hand, shifting their fingers together just so she could interlace her fingers through his.

Hermione glanced back at James's face, heart stuttering at the sight of a blinding smile on his face. Her heart quickened its pace, threatening to burst out from her chest and leap into James's awaiting hands, because it seemed like that was where her heart would always belong - from now until the end of time.

With James and no one else.

' _I'm sorry, Harry,'_ she thought for the last time.

**-ooo-**

"Thank you for inviting us over," Anya politely said with a sweet smile on her face.

"Please, we should be the one thanking you and your family for coming over and spending your Christmas with us," Euphemia said, grasping onto the younger witch's hand to give it a slight squeeze. Her eyes then swept over Anya's two children, her smile stretching wider. "It has been a lovely night. Thank you for coming."

Peter gave her a lopsided grin, while Hermione managed to flash a small smile.

"We must go soon, I'm afraid," Anya continued. "Oh, but we really must go to Diagon Alley soon, Euphemia! I've heard Madame Malkin has already introduced new clothes inspired by Muggle fashion."

Euphemia laughed. "Owl me as soon as you're free, Anya dear," she said. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Merry Christmas," Fleamont warmly greeted, placing a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder. "We should do this again."

After a chorus of 'Merry Christmases' and 'goodbyes' from everyone in the foyer, Peter turned around to grasp a handful of Floo powder. In a flash of emerald green, he was already gone.

Anya smiled her last goodbye and soon followed her son.

Hermione was about to follow her mother, but James's warm hand wrapped gently around her wrist. The sapphire bracelet around her wrist merrily twinkled when James tugged her closer until he could comfortably wound his arms around her.

His parents were gone, perhaps to give them a few minutes of privacy together.

"Thank you for coming," he said, his breath brushing against her forehead.

Hermione tilted her head to meet his gaze. James by then, had cradled her jaw against his hand and had leant down to give her a tender kiss. "I love you, Hermione," he said. "I love you."

Her eyes swam with tears once more. "James, I—"

She bit her bottom lip, terrified of the words now sitting on the tip of her tongue.

"It's all right," he suddenly said, eyes turning forlorn at whatever he'd seen on her face. "I don't really expect you to say it back, Hermione. I still don't know what plagues you so much… why you're so _convinced_ that this relationship won't work, even though this is perhaps the best thing that has ever happened to me. But I just – I've really wanted to tell you that for a long time now. I want to tell you that every day."

He wiped a small tear with the pad of his thumb and gave her another kiss. James led her towards their huge fireplace, grabbed a pinch of Floo powder, and threw it inside the fireplace.

"Merry Christmas, love," was his goodbye when Hermione stepped inside the fireplace and disappeared with a flash of roaring, emerald green.

**-ooo-**

When Hermione stumbled out of the fireplace, Peter and Anya were lounging on one of the couches, seemingly deep in conversation.

"Why in Merlin's name were you so surprised at the twelve-course meal, Mum?" she heard Peter ask.

Anya sheepishly smiled and glanced at her daughter, who by then had walked closer and was curious also. Her mother's expression a while ago had definitely piqued her interest.

"Purebloods rarely invite guests for a twelve-course meal," the older witch slowly started. "Twelve is a special number for Purebloods, you see. Symbolises completion, perfection, and harmony. Everything a true Pureblood covets for his family and future heirs. And so, twelve course dinners are usually reserved for very special occasions. Like the birth of an heir, the death of a patriarch, or—"

"Betrothal of an heir," Hermione answered with a deep sigh.

Anya gave her an apologetic smile while Peter blanched in shock.

"Betrothal?!" her brother sputtered out. Hermione snorted at the ridiculous look on his face as she bent down and removed her high-heeled shoes. "But… But Hermione has just turned seventeen! And she hasn't even graduated from Hogwarts yet." His eyes comically widened when he looked back at Hermione. "James already asked you to marry _him_?"

Her cheeks reddened. "No," she said, walking towards the couch and plopping beside her mother. Hermione instantly curled up against Anya, who wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders.

"Then why—" Peter became deeply confused. "So, that wasn't a simple dinner after all?"

"I'm afraid not," Anya said, clutching onto Peter's arm to give it a comforting squeeze. "But we can all pretend it is if we don't want to acknowledge what the Potters have done." Her mother placed a kiss against Hermione's temple. "I'm sure it wasn't their intention to pressure you, sweetheart. I think… I think maybe James had mentioned in passing what he planned to do with you and _for_ you in the future, and his parents may have gotten excited."

Hermione miserably snuggled against her mother's shoulder, having this inkling that James might have confessed to his parents that he loved her.

"Are you all right, Hermione?" her mother softly asked, touching one of her cheeks. "You've been quiet since you returned."

"Did something happen?" Peter added, worry also thick in his voice. "I didn't buy James's excuse. I saw your tears, Hermione. What happened?"

The brunette wryly smiled and merely wrapped her arms around her mother's waist. "Don't worry about me," she whispered. "It was nothing."

"Hermione—"

She extricated herself from her mother and stood up, lest they continued pestering her to tell them what was truly bothering her. "I'm going to call it a day," she announced. "Merlin, I'm really knackered."

Peter was on his feet too, but Hermione had already bent down to get her shoes and had silently padded back to her bedroom.

Now that she was fully facing away from her mother and brother, she allowed her tears to fall again.

* * *

**December 26, 1978**

Hermione slowly opened her eyes as an incessant tapping on her window pane disturbed her light sleep.

She glared at her alarm clock which showed it was three in the morning, then glared at the silhouette of a huge, black owl tapping his beak against her window.

Hermione groaned and pulled herself up, trudging blearily towards her window to let the greater sooty owl in. Mercury hooted his displeasure for making him wait, before he landed on her wooden desk and stuck out his leg.

"Bloody Regulus," she murmured under her breath as she untied the letter from his leg. Mercury hooted haughtily once more before opening his wings and taking flight, not bothering to stay and wait for Hermione's reply.

_I finally got the diary. I'm going to figure out how to send it to you. Don't worry, it's safely hidden inside my trunk with good enough warding spells._

_Also, you were right. You-Know-Who asked to borrow Kreacher on the 1_ _st_ _of January for a field trip - he didn't disclose details with me. I agreed, of course, as you told me to. I'm going to owl you as soon as he returns Kreacher to me._

_Be safe. Merry Christmas._

_R.A.B._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, I hope you liked the formal Christmas dinner with the Potters hehe. I had so much fun writing this chapter, as you can see from the length of this chapter haha! Also, I'm a huge sucker for the cliche of rendering your boyfriend speechless after dressing up so prettily lmao i'm sorry ahaha.
> 
> See you tomorrow!
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes)!


	35. chapter thirty-four

* * *

**xxxiv.**

_**be the light in the dark of this danger – part i** _

(A Safe Place to Land by Sara Bareilles)

* * *

**January 1, 1979**

"Peter still hasn't come home?" Anya asked as she joined Hermione on the couch in their living room.

"I'm afraid not, Mum," the brunette said. She smiled at the worried frown which appeared on Anya's face. "He'll be all right. Peter said Moody's become much more rigorous now that the new recruits are being sent on various field missions."

Her mother sighed. "Sometimes, I wonder if I did the right thing by supporting him to become an Auror," she murmured under her breath. "With everything that is happening in the Wizarding World… _well_ …" She left her words dangling as she worriedly glanced at the television, this time showing news about increasing attacks in the Muggle world once more.

Hermione swallowed down her trepidation and clutched her mother's hand for comfort. "Peter can take care of himself," she reassured. "Besides, this has been a childhood dream of his since forever. I'm sure he wouldn't even listen to you if you suddenly demanded he should quit being an Auror."

"That is quite true," Anya said, followed by a soft, sad laugh. "Peter used to follow my requests all the time. I wonder when he started to become mighty stubborn."

"It's the Selwyn blood, Mum," Hermione joked.

Her mother gave her a warm smile. "Definitely the Selwyn blood," she said with an over exaggerated sigh. "I might have brought two of the most stubborn children into this world."

"I listen to you all the time!" the younger witch protested.

"Please, sweetheart. All that cajoling for you to stop spending your summers studying away, always fell onto deaf ears." Hermione sheepishly smiled, prompting Anya to laugh again. "It's all right, darling. I don't want you to change at all."

Hermione warmly smiled when Anya placed a tender kiss on top of her curly hair. "Well then, I think I'm going to call it a night," her mother announced, a sad smile once again blooming on her face. "This might be the first New Year where we haven't eaten dinner together as a family. My children really are growing up so fast. Next thing I know, you will both be married with the love of your lives and you will leave your poor Mum alone."

"You know that's not going to happen," the younger witch pointed out. "If you must know, Mum, Peter and I are quite fond of you."

Anya expelled a lovely laugh and hugged her goodnight.

Once Anya had disappeared in her own room, Hermione settled comfortably on the couch and changed the channel on her television. Despite the disturbing breaking news, she thought it wouldn't hurt to at least pretend for the day that things weren't becoming more dangerous in the outside world.

She stayed for a few more hours, trying to see if Peter would finally come home. But, after finishing a cheesy, Christmas movie with her brother still nowhere to be seen, Hermione decided to call it a night.

After making sure that Anya's wards were still holding up, Hermione ventured inside her room.

As she settled some of her things on top of her desk, the brunette froze. Something was wrong. _Someone_ was there inside her room, boring holes into the back of her head and causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up.

Silently, Hermione pulled out her wand from her back pocket. And then, twirling around as fast as she could, she exclaimed a booming _'Expelliarmus'_ towards the intruder.

Instead of a wand flying into her arms, her spell backfired and knocked her wand out of her hand. Blood rushed to her ears, already mentally coming up with an escape plan. But then, before she could execute a half-arsed plan, a resounding snap reverberated around her walls and illuminated the lamps in her room.

A soft shriek escaped from her lips when eyes the size of tennis-balls unblinkingly stared back at her. "How did you —" Her words died down as soon as she recognised the house-elf standing before her. He may have been younger and a little _saner_ too, but this was definitely the Black house-elf who had tormented the Golden Trio when they'd stayed in Grimmauld Place while on the run from Voldemort. "Kreacher?"

His eyes widened a bit as he straightened himself. "Master Regulus sends Kreacher to Miss," he croaked. "Master Regulus said Miss is a friend."

"Regulus?" she echoed. "Why'd he sent you to me?"

Kreacher snapped his fingers once more. A small, ornate black box appeared in front of Hermione's feet. "Master Regulus told Kreacher to bring this to Miss," he continued. "Master Regulus said Miss will know what to do."

There was a folded parchment on top of the box. Hermione grabbed the letter and opened it to read the words the Slytherin had written.

_This houses the diary. I've placed decent wards, but I'm sure you'd want to place more of your complicated spells around it. I sent over Kreacher because I know owling it to you would be too risky._

_R.A.B._

Her heart thudded wildly inside her chest as she warily glanced at the box. "Thank you," she breathed out to the house-elf, who was still curiously peering at the brunette.

"Kreacher will leave now, Miss," he said for his goodbye.

"Wait!"

The house-elf paused mid-snap and glanced questioningly at Hermione.

"Did Voldemort—" She flinched when Kreacher darkly hissed, his face crumpling in a mixture of raw fear and anger. "Did _he_ borrow you from your Master already, Kreacher?"

"The Dark Lord wishes to bring Kreacher tonight, Miss," he suspiciously said. "How does Miss know about the Dark Lord's plan?"

Hermione thickly swallowed. "Never mind that," she said. "I just— _be careful_ , Kreacher, all right?"

He looked genuinely surprised at her warning. Wordlessly, he bobbed his head and snapped once more, this time disappearing completely from her room.

Once he was gone, Hermione warily eyed the warded box. Although it was undoubted that she trusted Regulus, she still had to make sure that what was truly housed inside the box was Riddle's Diary.

Removing Regulus's wards was easy and by the time she'd opened the black box, the suffocating feeling of dark magic enveloped her whole room. She thickly swallowed and glared at the ominous black book, remembering how the soul inside almost killed Ginny Weasley.

Not wanting to bask under its residual dark magic any longer, Hermione shut the black box tight and proceeded to place her usual, complicated warding spells. Hermione then hid it inside the secret compartment in her trunk, together with the Diadem and the Cup.

Adrenaline hummed in her blood as she finally realised she already had _three_ horcruxes in her possession. If what Kreacher said was true, she and Regulus would be able to steal Slytherin's locket soon as well.

Sleep was completely forgotten as Hermione sat on the edge of her bed, waiting.

* * *

**January 3, 1979**

_Kreacher came back last night. He was… he wasn't_ well _. I don't know what Voldemort did to him. I tried to ask him but he always bursts into tears. All he told me was about a cave and thirst – unquenchable thirst._

_What do you want me to do next?_

_R.A.B._

Her hand shook as she read Regulus's words again and again. Although she had been anticipating this for days already, the fact that it had finally _happened_ made her terrified. Hermione never really knew what had transpired at the cave between Harry and Dumbledore. She knew about the basinful of cursed water and the Inferi, but besides that, Harry was too shaken to recount the exact details.

This horcrux was perhaps the one Hermione dreaded to steal the most, because if Dumbledore had tried and come away weakened, then how would two, seventeen-year olds be able to get away unscathed?

Hermione couldn't shake off the feeling that something bad would happen once they arrived at the cave. There was this niggling voice in the back of her head, telling her again and again that this was a bad idea. Perhaps, _perhaps_ it was finally time to tell Dumbledore – the horcrux hunt, Hermione Granger, _everything_. But there was also another voice inside her head, one that strangely sounded like Harry, saying that telling Dumbledore right now was a bad idea also. He might forbid her from hunting the horcruxes and Hermione couldn't accept that. She wanted to be the one to gather them all, to see for herself that all of Voldemort's weaknesses were gathered together - just so she could destroy them piece by piece, relishing in the thought that finally, _finally_ the dark bastard was mortal once more.

She took a deep, shuddering breath, then grabbed a spare piece of parchment and a quill from her desk.

_Tell Kreacher to duplicate the locket._

_We're going to the cave tonight. Your house-elf will bring us there. Be prepared._

_H.P._

"Toffee," she called. The beautiful, tawny owl fluttered on top of Hermione's table and stuck out her leg. "Take this to Regulus Black." She then tied the parchment around Toffee's awaiting leg. She stroked her feathers before Toffee opened her wings and flew out of her window.

"Hermione, sweetheart?" her mother called from the other side of her door.

"Mum?" she called, rising out from her chair.

Anya opened her door and stepped inside. "Studying again, love?" she teased, her painted lips stretched into a small smile.

Hermione plastered a fake smile on her face. "You know me, Mum," she replied. She paused and blinked at the simple, black Muggle dress her mother was wearing. "Going somewhere?"

"There's a New Year's party over at the Mayor's office," Anya explained, smoothing down the invisible creases from her flowy skirt. "I've already cooked dinner and stored it in the refrigerator. You can just heat it up in the microwave if you get hungry. This party may take a long time and I might not be able to come back before dinner."

"All right," Hermione bit her bottom lip, the thought that she'd sneak off to meet Regulus and steal Slytherin's locket in an elusive cave dawning heavily on her shoulders. Hermione quickly shrank the distance between her and the woman she had come to unconditionally love and wrapped her arms around Anya's waist. "I love you, Mum."

Anya softly chuckled and patted her back. "I love you too, sweetheart," she said, fondly brushing her curls away. "Oh, I've made enough in case Peter finally comes home. Tell him he must eat first before going to sleep, okay?"

"Okay," the younger witch echoed as she completely pulled away from Anya. "Have fun."

Her mother smiled and bid her goodbye.

Hermione glanced at her wall clock and noted it was only three in the afternoon. She hoped that Regulus would reply immediately so they could steal it _tonight_. If they waited for a few more days, Hermione was fearful they would never have the opportunity to steal it in the future.

She spent the remaining time trying to distract herself by doing some advance reading for her lessons on the next school term. But the words swam before her eyes, refusing to stay still and let her focus enough to keep her sanity in check.

By five in the afternoon, Hermione had given up and had tried to take a nap. If they were going to venture into a very dangerous mission tonight, she might as well get as much rest as she could.

Predictably, the nap was fitful. Hermione managed to slip into unconsciousness but dreamt of Dark Marks and Killing Curses, of Inferi crawling out from the water and grasping onto her legs and arms, pulling her deeper into the black water until she couldn't breathe anymore.

Hermione was instantly roused from her sleep when she heard incessant tapping on her window. A quick look at her wall clock told her she had slept for almost an hour. Outside, the sun was already setting, painting the sky with various shades of red, orange, and yellow.

Mercury hooted unhappily when Hermione finally stood up from her bed and let him in. Instantly, all sleep seemed to leave Hermione when she untied the parchment around his leg. Instead of leaving, Mercury patiently waited for Hermione as he landed on her wooden desk.

_Kreacher has already duplicated the locket._

_Meet me at the Leaky Cauldron at nine this evening. I'd rather we do this earlier, but leaving this house is tricky, especially if you're living with a paranoid witch._

_Don't be late._

_R.A.B._

Hermione took a deep, shaky breath and penned her reply. She tied the parchment around Mercury and watched as the greater sooty owl took flight until he was but a dot on the horizon.

With a few more hours to spare, Hermione mechanically changed out of her house clothes and donned practical denim jeans and a thick, woolly turquoise jumper.

' _Eat,'_ she firmly told herself. _'I need to eat.'_

She walked out of her room and grabbed the food Anya had prepared from the refrigerator. While she waited for the microwave to heat her food, Hermione started to furiously pace, wearing down the cheery rug on their kitchen floor.

Different scenarios conjured in her head and she tried to come up with corresponding actions to such manufactured events. The main goal was to get the horcrux _alive_. The last time Regulus had ventured into the cave, he was unable to leave and had managed to join the Inferi buried under the black lake. Hermione would be damned if Regulus died on her watch given all the information she knew.

She only snapped out of her tumultuous thoughts when the smell of burnt food reached her nose. "Blast," she muttered, immediately yanking the microwave door open. Smoke rushed out, prompting Hermione to cough in disappointment. She pulled out her wand and dispelled the smoke away, until the burnt lasagne was visible.

Hermione levitated her dinner out of the microwave onto the kitchen table and sighed. She could just scrap the burnt pieces away if she wanted to eat something.

"I'm not even hungry, bloody hell," she grumbled to herself, her stomach already in knots due to the inevitable mission later that night. But years and years of running away with Harry had made her learn the importance of getting enough nourishment before a huge mission. No matter how nauseous she felt, she just had to cram a few bites of food inside her mouth, to help with the energy she would most definitely need later that night.

As she finally settled on her chair, Hermione unblinkingly stared at the lasagne, waiting until her stomach stopped churning restlessly.

**-ooo-**

"Bloody fucking hell, mates, I think I'm going to die." Sirius whined as he threw his arms over Peter and James's shoulders, distributing his weight evenly against the blokes until his best friends were dragging him out of the cramped Ministry lift.

"Geroff me, Pads," James grumbled under his breath, his hazel eyes already slipping closed due to exhaustion.

The shaggy-haired Auror sighed and pulled himself away from James. Instead of letting go of Peter completely, he threw his other arm around him. "Carry me home, Wormy?" he softly asked, hope blooming in his bright, silver eyes.

Peter scowled and tried to push him away. "Why don't you ask James to carry you, since you're living under the same roof?" he complained. Everything in him felt sore and heavy, like his muscles were made with heavy stones. Peter was knackered to the bone and he couldn't stop himself from imagining his very soft mattress at home, with the fluffiest pillows and softest comforter. His stomach kept on protesting, demanding to be fed, but sleep was steadily winning. Peter thought he'd rather sleep his tiredness away before wolfing down any meal.

"Fancy some dinner first, lads?" James asked, followed by a wide yawn that seemed to obscure his whole face.

Peter snorted, wondering if he'd been sleep-deprived for days - he'd been imagining a lot of things lately. "Pass," he said. "I think I'm going to go home instead."

"Is Hermione home?"

"Yes."

"Can I come with you?"

" _No_."

"Come now, Wormy, I'm too _tired_ to do anything untoward to your sister," James whined, clutching onto Peter's arm and trying to shake him with the remaining energy he had. "It's been _days_ since I saw Whiskers and I miss her so much."

Sirius latched onto Peter's arm. "Can I come too?" he giddily asked. "I miss Hermione too."

"Merlin, _no_ ," Peter said, laughingly pulling his arm away. "Look at you, dolts. You can barely keep upright! Just go home and sleep the remaining day away. And you—" He pinned James with a dark glare. "I still haven't forgiven you for inviting us over your house for Christmas dinner with a bloody ulterior motive in mind."

James's cheeks coloured in annoyance. "And I told you I didn't know my parents thought it was a dinner to discuss a possible _marriage_ ," he ground out, glaring lightly at Sirius who started snickering. "I just bloody told them how I truly felt…" He trailed off, his cheeks turning ruddier with embarrassment. "Pureblood traditions are bloody shite. I don't know why we're even sticking to such rules." He fluffed his hair and deeply frowned. "It's not as if the prospect of marriage with Hermione's so far-fetched anyway…" He trailed off as a glassy look appeared in his hazel eyes.

"She hasn't graduated yet!" Peter hotly cried. "Don't you dare get any ideas, Prongs."

The bespectacled wizard rolled his eyes. "Blimey, all right," he petulantly spat.

"Wormy here doesn't want his sister to get married first, Jamesy-boy," Sirius said as he patted James's shoulder for comfort. "He ought to ask Mary first, before he gives Hermione away to you."

"That's not true!" Peter cried, cheeks turning a brilliant shade of red.

He scowled when James and Sirius expelled identical snorts. "He's still hopeless, after all these years," Sirius sighed.

"Very hopeless," James echoed.

"Shut up," Peter grumbled.

The trio finally stumbled into the bustling Atrium, when Sirius suddenly skidded to a halt.

"Fuuuuuck, please don't tell me it's the third of Januray today," he pleaded.

Peter blinked at him in surprise. "Well… it _is_ ," he said.

Sirius muttered a soft 'fuck' once more. "I was supposed to fetch Moony from his mission with the Order today!" he complained. "Why was I given this stupid task? Remus can take care of himself."

"It's Moody's punishment for pranking him with his morning coffee, I bet," James pointed out, snickering under his breath.

"Bloody git needs to loosen up," Sirius petulantly grumbled. "I'm _so tired_. Why can't I take a break for once?"

"There, there Pads," Peter said, sympathetically patting him on his shoulder. "I'm sure after you've fetched Remus, you can crash on your very comfortable bed, tuck yourself under your _soft_ comforter, and relax for a few days."

"You fucking git," the shaggy-haired Auror said as he shoved the smirking Peter away. He lightly glared when James chuckled at his expense too. "I'm going to leave now before I hex you both."

"We'll get as much sleep as we can for you, Paddie mate," James cajoled, laughingly shying away when Sirius sent a Stinging Hex at his feet.

"Bloody wanker!" Sirius disappeared in one of the fireplaces after flipping a rude hand gesture in their direction.

"Well, I'll be off then," James said, thumping Peter on the shoulder. "Tell Hermione I miss her, yeah?" The bespectacled wizard then disappeared in a blazing flash of emerald fire.

Peter yawned tiredly as he threw the Floo powder into the fireplace. He stepped into the emerald fire, mentioned his home address, and closed his eyes. He waited for the sensation of travelling by Floo to subside before opening his eyes.

He walked out of their fireplace and brushed soot off his shoulders, only to pause upon smelling something burning. He at first looked at his cloak, wondering if he'd managed to burn himself while travelling through the Floo. Upon seeing that his cloak was fire-free, he frowned.

"Mum? Hermione?" he called.

He heard soft shuffling from the kitchen before Hermione emerged, surprise in her blue eyes. "You're finally home!" she cried.

Peter glanced at the fork she was clutching, a half-burnt mouthful of lasagne hanging precariously on its tines. "Something smells burnt," he pointed out.

She lightly blushed and sheepishly lifted the fork. "I managed to burn this, but it's still edible," she said. "Have you eaten?"

The wizard tiredly shook his head and shrugged his cloak off. Hermione eyed his discarded cloak disapprovingly as she always nagged him to place his clothes inside the laundry basket when he returned home. But Peter was really tired – _bone-deep_ tired, in fact – and everything was starting to turn fuzzy for him.

"Mum's away for an office party," Hermione said, "but she told me I have to insist on feeding you before you sleep."

"Please," Peter moaned, "I just want to sleep."

"Just a few bites, Peter Pettigrew," the brunette firmly said with a hard stare.

Too tired to fight with his sister, Peter slumped forward. "Bloody Merlin, _fine_ ," he grumbled. "I might as well just finish my mission report for Moody before going to sleep. Merlin knows what that git might do if I'm an hour late with my report again."

He shivered at the memory of a mean Stinging hex from the infamous Auror. He truly respected the Senior Auror, and James and Sirius had pointed out that they thought Moody liked him the best amongst the three of them, but he was still a terrifying bloke.

"Do you have" – he paused as a wide yawn tore away from his lips – "have any spare parchment? I've already used up all of my supplies."

Hermione eyed him amusedly. "There's some on my desk," she answered. "Come out and _eat_ , Petey."

"Yes, yes, Merlin," he grumbled, already striding towards her bedroom. But then, he paused and glanced at his sister once more. "James said he misses you."

He rolled his eyes when a silly smile appeared on her face, the peaks of her cheeks staining red. "Oh," she shyly said. "Okay."

"Ugh, gross," Peter gagged, ignoring her indignant glare and went inside her bedroom.

He eyed Hermione's bed greedily, wondering if it would be all right if he could just lay there for just a few minutes… _'Definitely not, Peter Pettigrew,'_ a huffy voice that sounded eerily like Hermione exclaimed in his mind.

"Better get this over and done with," he sighed as he sauntered towards Hermione's desk. He snorted at her opened Arithmancy book; no doubt his swotty sister had been devouring her textbooks during the school break. He still hadn't seen her colour-coded schedule, but he'd bet everything he loved in this world, it would be mighty difficult to adhere to. Unless, of course, you were as barmy as Hermione Pettigrew.

He scanned her desk for any spare parchment, spying half-finished essays and crumpled paper on her desk. Hermione was usually quite tidy with her things. The state of her haphazard desk was very uncharacteristic of her. His sister usually became this untidy when her mind was deeply bothered by a lot of things.

Brief worry flittered in his mind, wondering what had troubled Hermione this time. Lately, she always had this weird look on her face, as if she was _grieving_ over something Peter couldn't understand. He had asked her what had been bothering her over the past few weeks, but he was always swept away with Auror missions and whatnot, before she could answer him. Added to this, were his growing responsibilities for the Order. Since he, Sirius, and James were full-time Ministry employees, they were rarely at Headquarters. Despite this, Dumbledore had given them the task of keeping an eye on shady Ministry officials - those who were rumoured to be in cahoots with the Dark Lord.

All in all, it had been a _tiring_ month and Peter knew everything was starting to take a toll on his sanity. His only beacon was Mary, but his witch was also too busy with her Healer training to make time for him. He missed her terribly and he really wanted to see her today, but Mary had owled her apology, saying she was going to be in the middle of an eight-hour long demonstration on curing some obscure ailment she didn't bother to tell him about.

' _Adulthood is bloody lame,'_ he internally said, finally grasping onto a piece of spare parchment he spied crammed inside one of Hermione's textbooks. He also grabbed an expensive quill from her desk and an inkwell, since he was too tired to venture inside his own bedroom to get his.

Peter was about to leave, when his Auror-trained eyes caught something that made him pause.

Buried underneath her Arithmancy textbooks were various scraps of parchment, with hastily scratched words scrawled messily across the yellowing paper. Normally, he would have ignored such things because he knew they were private letters. He had already learned from experience before, when he'd accidentally read one of James's letters for Hermione, and had been scarred for life. Since then, he'd made it a point to ignore whatever letters Hermione had displayed on her desk.

But his gut feeling told him to look closely, despite the invasion of privacy. He glanced down and saw familiar initials scrawled on Hermione's letters, but he wasn't quite sure if his exhaustion was merely imagining things. The handwriting was definitely not James's, so he wondered who Hermione was corresponding with nowadays.

Peter surreptitiously shot a look at her bedroom door and counted a few seconds before returning to the letters. After making sure that Hermione wouldn't suddenly barge inside and curse him for snooping around, Peter hastily grasped the piles of parchment and glanced at the scrawled initials underneath more clearly.

 _R.A.B._ were how the letters were signed. Anyone would normally wonder who the hell R.A.B. was, but he'd been best friends with Sirius Black for _years_. He'd seen how his younger brother signed his letters, maybe to hide the fact that he was still secretly corresponding with his disinherited brother. Granted, the letters Sirius received from the mysterious R.A.B. were nowhere near pleasant, but the fact that the new Black heir was corresponding with his older brother meant there was still some level of concern from the cold Slytherin for Sirius.

Peter's heart thudded wildly inside his ribcage, now wondering why in Merlin's rotting teeth Hermione was corresponding with _Regulus Black_? The bloke was already highly suspected as a Death Eater. Sirius and James had managed to interrogate one Ministry employee in cahoots with the Dark Lord by forcing him to drink Veritaserum. Peter had proceeded to ask if the employee knew anyone who had been recently Branded – Regulus Black's name was mentioned. Peter still clearly remembered that day - how Sirius had almost ransacked the entire Leaky Cauldron with various, incomprehensible slurs towards his younger brother. James had managed to calm down the hysterical Sirius by shooting a well-aimed _Stupefy_ and had dragged Sirius's arse back home.

"Fuck," Peter muttered. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

Was Hermione deeply entangled with Voldemort too? That simple thought didn't make any sense, because his sister seemed like the Champion of the poor and downtrodden. He knew she was brilliant, _disbelievingly_ brilliant, and her thirst for knowledge was unparalleled. Perhaps she had started getting curious about the Dark Arts and had reached out to Regulus? They'd been awfully chummy in the past after all.

Shakily, his eyes skimmed through the different letters. His vision swam with words like 'horcrux', 'cave', 'locket', and 'Kreacher'. There was even one mention of 'Voldemort' but the letters did not offer any hint as to where Hermione's allegiance truly lay.

His eyes latched onto one of the letters, with Regulus telling Hermione to meet him at the Leaky Cauldron at nine that evening. No date was on the letter, so Peter wasn't sure if they were to meet today or if this had already happened. A brief glance at Hermione's wall clock showed him it was already seven-thirty in the evening.

Crumpling the letters in his hand, Peter's eyes turned determined. He needed to get answers and Merlin help him, he'd be damned if Hermione lied to him.

**-ooo-**

Hermione curiously glanced at her bedroom door, wondering what was taking Peter so long. Her spare parchment was plainly placed on top of her desk after all, so she could easily grab onto a piece whenever she needed to.

A small, amused smile appeared on her face, guessing that her ridiculous brother might have fallen asleep on her bed.

Deciding to check up on him, she rose from her chair and was about to saunter towards her bedroom, when the door banged open and Peter stomped outside, a livid expression on his face.

Hermione shrank away in worry, wondering what had caused such a dark look on her brother's face. "Peter?" she called out, cautiously glancing around him to find any clues as to why he was suddenly in a sour mood.

And then, crumpled tightly in his hand, she saw scraps of parchment. Dread instantly bloomed in Hermione's heart and she felt sick. Perhaps, forcing herself to eat dinner had been a bad idea in the end.

"Peter…" she started slowly, trying to appease her brother.

The wizard stomped towards Hermione and slammed the pieces of parchment on top of the table. "Why the bloody hell are you exchanging letters with _Regulus Black_?" he demanded. "And don't give me crap about him being your study partner because the content of your letters do not tackle anything academic."

Ire flared in Hermione's eyes. "You _read_ the letters?" she snarled. "Ever heard of privacy, Peter?"

His face crumpled, raw fear flittering on his face. "Hermione," he beseeched, "you shouldn't— he's— I've heard things about him, Hermione. Things I don't want to believe because he's Sirius's _fucking_ brother. But… but we're in a war, and he's been associating himself with the wrong sort of people for years. You shouldn't—" He paused and took a deep, shuddering breath. "I don't want you to get hurt, so please, please, _please_ Hermione, stop associating with him."

Tears prickled in the brunette's eyes. "I can't," she whispered. "I'm sorry, Peter."

He looked deeply disturbed by the expression on her face. "You're not…" He thickly swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing sharply in his throat. "You're not… with Voldemort…"

"No!" she cried almost immediately, knowing full well what he was trying to insinuate. "No, Peter. I'm not. Please believe me."

"Then what—" He paused and browsed through the crumpled pieces of parchment until he had pulled out one letter. "This letter – he mentions a locket and a cave. A _horcrux_. What does that mean? What are you doing with Regulus Black?"

A few tears escaped from her eyes as she looked away. "Drop it, Peter," she begged. "Please. I– I'm not associating with Dark Magic. But… with Regulus…" She pinned him with a firm stare despite her swimming eyes. "I have to do this."

Mentally, Hermione cursed herself for being careless. Normally, she'd burned Regulus's letters away after receiving them just to make sure no one would discover she was corresponding with him. But for the past few days, her mind was too distracted by her impending horcrux mission, one that might most probably cost Regulus's life. And _hers_. She'd forgotten about burning them in the end.

Peter turned sickly green. "You're still supposed to meet him at the Leaky Cauldron today, aren't you?" he said.

Hermione nodded her head thrice.

Her brother tightly closed his eyes and started massaging the bridge of his nose. "Please tell me you're not going to do something dangerous with Regulus Black, of all fucking people, Hermione."

She really, truly, _desperately_ wanted to assure him that she'd be all right after everything. Lying would be easy to Peter, knowing it would be her only chance to still keep him in the dark.

But a part of Hermione knew that no amount of lying could convince Peter. He'd already thought she was dabbling in Dark Magic. If she was going to die tonight, because Merlin there was a huge possibility, then she'd rather she died knowing that Peter didn't think of her as some crazy witch who fell in love with the Dark Arts.

So, instead of answering him with words, her face crumpled and she was unable to meet his eyes. Her long silence was already telling, and Peter knew that too, for he expelled a long list of expletives and closed the remaining distance between them.

Peter grabbed onto her wrist and tightly held it until she was forced to look into his eyes. There was unfiltered terror on Peter's face, as if he truly knew that whatever mission she was going on with Regulus Black later, there was a huge possibility she wouldn't be coming back.

"You're still going to go, even if I try to stop you, aren't you?"

More tears slipped down from her eyes. "Yes," she croaked.

Peter's blue eyes turned steely - all the terror he'd shown her suddenly shrunk behind unbelievable determination.

"Then bloody fucking hell, Hermione, I'm coming with you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow, look at that, a cliffhanger! I've been spoiling you lot with my everyday updates, so it'll be mighty fun to tease y'all a little hehe.
> 
> Also, good news! I only have the epilogue left to write before this whole fic is done! I still have a few chapters in need of an edit, and surely my Beta's been lovely and working really hard. But yeah, I just need to finish my bloody surgery report then I can finally write the epilogue. Yay productive me! Oh, and just so you know, this fic will officially have 57 chapters in total, including the prologue and epilogue. So yeppppp, we're still far from the end.
> 
> See you tomorrow and oh boy, buckle up, lads.
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes)!


	36. chapter thirty-five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOW WTF 800 KUDOS??? 😭 ❤️

* * *

**xxxv.**

_**be the light in the dark of this danger – part ii** _

(A Safe Place to Land by Sara Bareilles)

* * *

**January 3, 1979**

Hermione, in her Animagus form, spotted a heavily cloaked Regulus hiding in the shadows at the most secluded booth in the whole of the Leaky Cauldron.

Her blue eyes glanced at the scuttling overgrown rat beside her and she gloomily meowed, relaying that she'd seen Regulus Black.

She wasn't sure if it was possible in Animagus form, but Hermione could actually feel Peter's deathly glare directed at her furry back.

When Peter had demanded he was coming with them, Hermione had tried every means she could think of just to stop him. The Pettigrew siblings had exchanged a few well-aimed spells, with Hermione mostly meaning to petrify or stun him, so that she could run away and meet Regulus. But to her utmost surprise, Peter dodged them all _and_ even tried to petrify and stun her instead. Perhaps, Auror training had made Peter a better fighter. She would have been relieved at that thought, seeing that he was already being sent into different dangerous missions. But his constant dodging and attacking was _frustrating_ , and nine pm had been steadily approaching.

In the end, Hermione called for a ceasefire and a reluctant agreement that Peter could come with her to the Leaky Cauldron.

Before they left, Hermione had scrawled a letter telling Anya she might spend the night over at Lily and Sev's. After that, she and Peter had decided to Apparate near the Leaky Cauldron instead of Flooing, just so they could arrive in their Animagi forms - nobody would remember them in the pub that night.

Hermione took the lead and slinked towards the tense Slytherin. She loudly meowed at Regulus, who flinched and warily glanced at her cat form.

"Pettigrew?" he tentatively whispered.

She meowed in confirmation. At this angle, Regulus looked positively green, deep terror in his mercurial eyes. Perhaps, he also knew that this mission was dangerous – _more_ dangerous than their break-in at Gringotts months ago – and had been on edge ever since.

Hermione meowed once more and bounded away, hoping that Regulus got her signal to follow her. She didn't look back as she slipped past the entrance between the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley and only stopped when they were finally at the back of Flourish and Blotts.

She turned into her human form and grimly greeted Regulus Black. Almost immediately, Peter turned into his human form too, prompting Regulus to backpedal in shock, his wand now clutched tightly in his hand.

"What the hell is he doing here?" he furiously cried, jamming his wand tip in the Auror's direction. Horror and disbelief coloured his face as he glanced back at Hermione once more. "Are you… are you _double crossing_ me?"

"No," Hermione flatly said at the same time Peter murmured, "So you're really a Death Eater, huh."

Regulus suddenly looked thunderous as he lifted his wand again, threateningly pointing it at Peter. Her brother also had his wand drawn, ready to defend himself in case the need arose.

" _Please_ , we have other things to do," Hermione snapped, eyeing their wands warily. It was Peter who first withdrew his wand and stiffly stared at Regulus, unwilling to look away from his suspicious, grey eyes.

"Regulus…"

"What is _he_ doing here, Pettigrew?" he spat, not breaking his glaring contest with her older brother.

"He's going to help us," she tiredly explained, lifting her fingers to massage her throbbing temples. "I may have fucked up a bit and didn't burn your letters after receiving them. Peter found them and he demanded to come to this… this _thing_."

"Yes, well, what the hell are you both going to do?" Peter hotly asked, his blue eyes shifting away from Regulus to look at his sister. "You never answered my question when I asked you back at home. Are you sure you're not in cahoots with _Voldemort_?"

Regulus flinched at the mention of the Dark Lord's name, but a sneer appeared on his face. "Didn't your sister tell you?" he spat. When Peter suspiciously glanced back at him, he added, "We're going to bring the fucking Dark Lord down."

Peter's eyes grew as wide as saucers. " _What_?" he cried. His wild eyes landed on Hermione. "Hermione—"

"I'll explain everything to you soon, Peter. I promise," she gruffly said, stepping forward to knock Regulus's pointed wand away. The Slytherin glowered, but Hermione was unfazed. "We really have other things to do and I'd rather we finish this as soon as possible."

She ignored Peter's indignant cry and frowned at Regulus. "Where's your house-elf?" she asked.

Regulus looked hesitant. "Are you really sure it's wise if we bring Kreacher with us?" he tentatively asked. "After his field trip with the Dark Lord… he didn't look too well, Pettigrew. In fact, he looked like he was going to – to _die_."

Hermione swallowed down her trepidation. "He's the only one who knows where the cave is, Regulus," she reasoned out. "My best friend didn't tell me where exactly the cave was located. He was merely brought there by Dumbledore by Side-Along."

"Best friend? _He_? You mean _Snape_?"

"No," Hermione distractedly replied to her bewildered brother.

"Then who—"

" _Later_ , Peter. I promise," she harshly cried, piercing him with a cold glare. "Please. Just – just bloody hell, shut up. I'm going to tell you everything soon. Please, just don't ask any questions and – and go along with everything."

"Well, that's very comforting," he sarcastically spat.

"Just shut up and do what she tells you, Pettigrew," Regulus growled, darkly glaring at the older wizard. "She may be the only one who can get us out _alive_. So shut your damn trap and follow her lead, yeah?"

Peter didn't appreciate being told off by the Slytherin, but blessedly, he clammed up and moodily glared at his feet. Terrified tears appeared in Hermione's eyes as she reached forward and squeezed his arm in reassurance. "I promise to tell you _everything_ after we've finished this mission," she softly said, voice thick with tears. "Marauder's honour, Petey."

He glanced at her, his mouth drawn into a firm line. He nodded twice to show his agreement.

Hermione gratefully smiled at him. Brushing her tears away, she turned to Regulus once more. "We need Kreacher now," she said.

"Fine, if it's the only way," he sighed. "Kreacher!"

A loud pop instantly filled the abandoned alley. Regulus's personal house-elf appeared beside the Black heir. Despite the darkness blanketing them, Hermione could see that Kreacher looked terrible. He looked ashen and shaky, like he'd gone through hell and back. Seeing that he'd accompanied Voldemort on a horrible task, perhaps that wasn't too farfetched at all.

"M – Master Regulus called for Kreacher?" the wiry house-elf stuttered, glancing curiously at Hermione and the silent Auror.

"Kreacher," Regulus firmly started, "we need you to take us to the cave where Voldemort brought you."

Terrified tears welled up in Kreacher's eyes. "No, no, no," he chanted, wringing his large ears as he started to pace. "No, no, Kreacher cannot take Master Regulus and his friends there. No! Kreacher cannot go back there, Master Regulus. The cave! And dark, very dark and so cold… Kreacher thought he was going to die there. No, no, no, Master Regulus. Kreacher cannot!"

Regulus surprised Hermione when he fell on his knees, just to level his eyes with his hysterical house-elf. "Kreacher," he called, placing both of his hands on top of Kreacher's knobby shoulders to keep him in place. "I know you don't want to go back there. But… but this is the only way for me to escape Voldemort."

Kreacher was visibly shaking, big, fat tears sliding down from his round eyes. "Master Regulus can escape h-him?" he stuttered in disbelief.

"Yes," Regulus resolutely replied. "If you take us to this cave, then there is a chance we may actually defeat him."

The house-elf looked deeply troubled as his huge eyes swept from his master to the Pettigrews. "Okay," Kreacher finally breathed out. "Okay."

Regulus exchanged a relieved glance with Hermione. He then clambered onto his feet as Kreacher noisily sniffed and positioned himself in front of the trio.

"Master Regulus and his friends must hold onto Kreacher."

They did what they were instructed to do and soon disappeared with a soft pop.

**-ooo-**

The salty air wafted up her nose as Kreacher reappeared them on top of a huge stone cliff. Peter yelped, almost slipping away and losing his balance, but Regulus was quick to wrap a tight hold around his wrist and pulled him back.

Hermione warily eyed the huge waves that crashed against the weathered stone before disappearing back into the sea, only to rise up again and crash once more. If they were to fall, the waves would be enough to pull them deeper into the sea until they couldn't break above the surface.

"Where are we?" Peter exclaimed, keenly scanning the stony platform they were standing on. His eyebrows were slowly knitting together as he glanced at the other two. "Can you feel it too?"

"Dark magic," Regulus gravely said. "At least we know we're in the right place."

Kreacher squeaked and started sobbing hysterically again. "Kreacher cannot enter again, Master Regulus! Kreacher would rather die!" he exclaimed.

Regulus glanced at Hermione, waiting for her instructions. The witch thoughtfully nibbled her lower lip, wondering if it would be wise to let Kreacher return to Grimmauld Place.

The cave was undoubtedly surrounded with Anti-Apparation Wards, because surely Voldemort wanted to make sure no one would get out of this place alive. Kreacher's house-elf magic may prove useful in case they needed to get away as soon as possible. But, if they entered with him, when he was clearly terrified beyond reason, the plan may get botched up too.

"It's all right," she said after coming to a decision. "He can return to Grimmauld Place." Then, to Kreacher, she kindly added, "But, if we ever call for you, it means we're in danger and we need your help. You must come immediately to us, Kreacher. Do you understand?"

Despite his tears, the house-elf glared darkly at Hermione. "Miss is not Kreacher's Mistress!" he loudly exclaimed. "Miss cannot order Kreacher around!"

Hermione sighed and glanced at Regulus for help.

"Follow what she says, Kreacher," the Black heir ordered with a firm frown. "If something happens - if she or her brother calls for you or orders you to do something, you must follow. Am I making myself clear?"

The antagonistic look disappeared from the house-elf's face. "If Master Regulus wishes it, then Kreacher must abide," he said, deeply bowing down until the pointy end of his nose almost touched the cold, stony floor. "But Kreacher will only follow Master Regulus's friends orders if Master Regulus himself gives them his blessing."

Regulus expelled a deep sigh and extended his hand towards Hermione. "Hold my hand," he said.

" _Why_?" Peter thundered whilst Hermione quirked an eyebrow.

The Slytherin rolled his eyes and snatched Hermione's hand. Then, without Peter's permission, he also grabbed the older wizard's hand. Kreacher then wordlessly placed both of his hands on top of theirs. A warm, yellow wisp entangled around their wrists before melting into their skin.

"What was that?" the brunette asked with widened eyes. She pulled her hand away and stared at her hand, lightly grimacing at the tingly feeling around her wrist.

"Technically, my house-elf cannot do anyone's orders unless he or she is a Black," Regulus explained matter-of-factly. "Some Master-House Elf contract crap. No time to explain. But basically, as the Black heir, I've given you permission to temporarily share the binding magic I share with Kreacher."

Hermione's lips curled in disgust, biting down a snide comment about abuse and house-elf slavery.

Regulus shot an amused glance at her face. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said, deciding that they had more pressing matters to attend to right now.

The Slytherin still stared at her dubiously, but chose not to comment about it any further. Instead, he turned to his house-elf and said, "You may leave."

Kreacher didn't need to be told twice as he snapped his fingers and popped away.

"Come on then," Hermione said, leading the small group as she meandered along the slippery stone path. She had to occasionally catch herself from tumbling, grasping onto sharp stones to break her fall. "Bloody convenient," she muttered darkly under her breath as she broke her seventh slip.

They were soon faced with a huge, stone wall. Hermione tried to search for a small opening to crawl into, but there was nothing in sight. There was something brown and crusting against a slab on the wall, which piqued her interest. Despite Peter's protest, Hermione strode forward and inspected the stain.

Grimacing, she glanced at her other companions. "Blood," she spat disgustingly. "I think we need to offer a few drops of blood to enter the cave."

"Of course," Regulus muttered as he slowly pulled his wand out from his robe pockets. Peter's own wand was immediately out too and he was threateningly pointing it at the Slytherin. "Calm down, Pettigrew. I'm going to form a wound big enough to offer a few drops of my blood."

Hermione frowned. "Why does it have to be you?" she asked.

He looked at her like she was barmy. "This is the Dark Lord we're talking about," he drawled matter-of-factly. "Of course he'd want pure, precious blood to drip all over the entrance of his cave."

The brunette rolled her eyes. "Of course," she muttered, stepping aside to let Regulus past.

" _Diffindo_ ," Regulus muttered, slashing a clean slice along the skin of his palm. He grimaced and clenched his hand into a fist, managing to drop three, bright red spots of blood onto the stony wall.

There was a mighty rumble as the stone wall slowly shifted aside, revealing an entrance wide enough for them to pass through.

Before they could walk inside however, Hermione grabbed onto Regulus's hand and healed his cut. She ignored his surprised gaze as Hermione pushed Regulus aside and took the lead once more, tentatively taking a peek inside the opening his blood had made.

The whole cave was drenched in complete darkness. Hermione tried to make out any silhouettes of a basin or even a boat, but it was too dark. " _Lumos Maxima_!" she exclaimed, throwing a huge ball of white light into the air.

She held her breath as she followed the path of the hovering light.

"There's something over there," Peter said, squinting his eyes to get a clearer view. "I think… I think it's a basin of some sort."

"That's where the horcrux is placed," she distractedly said, slowly climbing inside the cave. To her dismay, there was only a small patch of stone beside the small lake surrounding the basin. She fearfully eyed the dark waters, wondering how many Inferi were lurking underneath. "Whatever you do, don't touch the water."

"Why?" Peter harshly asked, panic now heard in the tone of his voice.

"Inferi," Regulus murmured, his silver eyes almost glinting in the darkness surrounding them.

The Auror took a sharp intake of breath. "Bloody fucking hell," he cursed. "Of course. _Of course_." Peter tightly clutched her arm and forced Hermione to look over at him. "Do you want to _die_ , Hermione? Whatever this horcrux is, is it really worth it for _you_ , and _fucking Regulus Black_ , to venture into an Inferi-infested cave, in the middle of the _fucking ocean_?"

"Yes," she replied without blinking an eye.

Peter's face crumpled, his wild, panicked eyes glancing at Hermione and then back to the water.

"No time for breakdowns," Regulus hissed at the hyperventilating wizard.

Hermione worriedly stared at her older brother. "Peter—"

"Give me a few seconds," Peter said, raising a hand to halt whatever Hermione was going to say. The wizard took a few lungfuls of air and tightly closed his eyes. Hermione watched in amazement as the panic slowly seeped out of his system, leaving only a serene indifference that she usually only saw Regulus wearing when he was out in public.

"All right," he said, voice strangely strained and tight despite the blankness of his face. "Carry on."

She guardedly eyed Peter, watching for other signs of panic that may cost them their life. But when she saw none, she tightly nodded her head and looked straight ahead once more. The conjured ball of light was now hovering over the basin holding the horcrux, illuminating the little island that was too small to hold all three of them.

"How are we going to get there?" Regulus asked.

Instead of voicing out an answer, Hermione pointed her wand towards the lake and whispered, " _Accio chain_." There was a clanging sound from the water and Hermione opened her palm, waiting. A thick, coppery chain soon leapt out from the waters and into her palm.

"Help me pull it out of the water," she instructed, passing the chain to both Regulus and her brother.

With a mighty heave, they pulled the chain until a small rowboat with a greenish hue emerged out of the water. Besides the menacing glow, the boat looked sturdy enough to hold at least two people inside. Peter also came to that conclusion as an expletive broke out from his mouth.

"Only two people can fit inside," she whispered, cautiously glancing at her brother. "One of them has to be me."

"And the other is me," Regulus said without batting an eye.

" _No_ ," Peter growled. "If anyone has to ride this stupid boat to get to that stupid basin, it has to be _me_. Merlin only knows what will happen once you get there."

"I actually _do_ know what will happen once we get to the other side," Hermione firmly revealed. "Regulus too. If anyone has to stay behind, it has to be _you_ , Peter. I'm sorry, but you're the one who has the least information on what is happening right now."

"Because no one will tell me!" he cried, his voice ringing throughout the vast cavern. His eyes looked hysterical once more, but he was trying his very best to stop himself from completely exploding.

Hermione deflated and leant towards her brother. "Even if I tell you everything right now, you might not understand it," she whispered apologetically.

"She's right," Regulus piped in. "Took me _fucking weeks_ to wrap my head around everything she said." When Peter growled angrily, Regulus huffed. "We're not purposively leaving you in the dark, Pettigrew. We're just trying to save you from an inevitable breakdown. And like I said, we cannot afford that right now. Not when the horcrux is in sight. Not when there are dormant Inferi swimming here in the water."

"Besides, you're an Auror," Hermione appeased. "If something happens to us, we need _you_ to act quickly and save us all."

Peter snorted, his grip on her hand tightening. "You put too much faith in me when you and I both know _you're_ the one that acts quickly," he snapped.

"Peter, really, after everything you've been through these past few months, you still doubt yourself?" She roughly smacked the underside of his head and ignored his yelp of pain and surprise, as she darkly glared at him. "You've managed to become an _Auror_ , you buffoon. Have a little faith in yourself."

The older wizard bristled and stared at the high ceilings of the cavern. "Bloody fucking hell," was all he could say.

She threw a worried glance at Regulus, who had now wordlessly tilted his head towards the awaiting boat.

After giving Peter a warning glare, Hermione slowly clambered inside the boat. She stilled as it rocked precariously, and she was only able to breathe a little more easily, when the boat had stopped moving. Next, Regulus climbed in and nervously gripped the edge of the boat until it stopped swaying.

As soon as the two were settled, the boat suddenly lurched forward. Hermione met Peter's worried gaze throughout their small journey. She only broke away from his stare once the boat lightly slammed against the stony dais leading to the glowing basin.

Regulus was the first one to jump out and helped Hermione out. The witch muttered her thanks and took the lead again, climbing up the steps of the dais with Regulus following closely behind.

A lump formed in her throat once they reached the basin with the greenish glow. Hermione peered inside and tried to see the silhouette of the locket, but the liquid inside was murky enough to obscure it from view. There was a clam-shaped goblet sitting on top of the basin, wordlessly providing instructions on how to get to Slytherin's locket.

"You must drink the liquid inside," she murmured, grabbing onto the goblet. "Every _drop_ of it."

Regulus grimaced. "It's cursed, isn't it?" His grimace morphed into a small scowl upon seeing Hermione's pale face. "Of course it is."

"My best friend told me that when Dumbledore drank the potion inside, he started hallucinating," she said, tightly gripping the goblet in her hand. "No matter what I do or say, you have to force me to drink the potion, Regulus. Our priority is the horcrux. Do you understand?"

His eyes widened in surprise, looking at her as if she'd grown another head. " _You're_ the one who's going to drink the cursed potion?" he asked.

"Yes," she dully said.

" _No_ ," Regulus harshly replied, snatching the goblet from Hermione's hand before she could protest. "You are too valuable in this mission, Pettigrew. I wasn't exaggerating back at Diagon Alley; _you_ are the only one who can save us in case things blow out of proportion."

Tears sprang up in her eyes as a wry smile stretched on her face. "You put too much faith in me," she mumbled, once again fearfully glancing at the Inferi-infested waters. In another life, Regulus Black had been dragged into the dark waters to become an Inferius forevermore. Could Hermione really save him from such a fate?

"Shouldn't I?" the Slytherin claimed, a dry laugh escaping from his lips. "I've blindly followed whatever instructions you've told me to do since day one, Hermione Pettigrew. I think I'm slowly losing my mind from everything you've told me so far, but if it means I can escape Voldemort, then I'd choose this over him in a heartbeat. And besides—" He eyed the cursed liquid in determination. "Consider this as penance for all of the sins I've made in this blasted, albeit short, life."

"You've done enough," Hermione said, placing a comforting hand on his arm.

"Not enough," he hotly replied. "I'll only be satisfied if I know the Dark Bastard's _dead_."

Hermione sighed, knowing that whatever she did, there was no stopping him. "I'm going to have to force it down you," she warned. "Remember, even Dumbledore was victim to the dark effects of this liquid."

Regulus considerably paled but his face was set. "Let's just get this over and done with," he murmured.

"Fine," she sighed in defeat. "Give me the replica necklace first before you start drinking."

The Slytherin rummaged inside his pocket and fished out the glinting necklace. Hermione felt sick just looking at the replica; how much worse will she feel when she sees the real thing?

She watched as Regulus slowly scooped the murky liquid into the cup. Once filled to the brim, he brought it against his lips and finished the potion in three mighty gulps.

For a moment, nothing happened and Hermione wondered if Harry had exaggerated about this particular bit of information. But then, Regulus's face crumpled, raw fear and agony painted on his pale face. He started to shake and terrified, incomprehensible words tumbled out of his lips. Regulus threw the goblet on the ground as he tried to get away from the basin.

"Hermione?" Peter called from the other side, obviously panicked, as he had raised his wand in readiness.

"Everything's all right, Peter," she shouted, quickly grabbing onto the goblet to place more cursed liquid inside.

Regulus slid down onto the floor and breathed heavily, his silver eyes wide and frantic, darting all over the cave and seeing nightmarish shadows that the potion had conjured in his mind.

"Come on, one more cup," she urged, tilting the goblet to his trembling lips. Regulus yielded and parted his lips, gasping painfully as he fully consumed the liquid.

Hermione determinedly walked back to the basin and scooped more potion, urging Regulus again and again to drink until the very last drop. She was starting to see the outline of the locket, but Regulus was growing more hysterical. He was violently shaking, his arms batting away unseen ghosts as terrified tears steadily streamed down from his eyes.

She was crying too, her heart clenching tightly at whatever Regulus was seeing.

"Please, please, no more, please," Regulus loudly sobbed, shying away from the liquid.

"Just one more, Regulus. I promise. One more," she begged, her vision already getting blurry from all of the tears in her eyes. Regulus relented and opened his mouth. He lurched forward and tried to claw his way out, his tears growing incessant and horrified. Hermione wound her arms around the terrified boy, whispering soothing words against his ear until he was slightly mollified.

Hermione then pulled herself from him and walked back to the basin. Her heart soared, noting that she only needed to force him to drink one last cup before she could safely grab the locket.

Regulus shrank when she came back. "You said it was the last," he snapped, watery eyes glaring darkly as Hermione showed him the last cup. "You said it was the last!" He started shivering once more, loud, guttural sobs tearing out of his lips.

"This is really the last, please Regulus. One more."

He wildly thrashed around and tried to push the goblet away from Hermione's hands.

"You said you wanted Voldemort to die," she croaked. "You said you wanted to be _free_. This is the only way, Regulus. I'm sorry but this is the only way."

All the energy zapped out of him as he slumped forward and stared at Hermione with such open vulnerability on his face.

She sobbed in relief when he parted his lips and she didn't hesitate to spill the liquid inside his mouth.

As soon as he gulped down the last drop of liquid, the terror on his face smoothed out. Regulus blearily blinked at Hermione and smacked his lips. "Water," he whispered. "Please. Give me water."

Hermione's heartbeat quickened, remembering Harry's failed attempt at conjuring water to give to Dumbledore. It was a clever plan, for Voldemort to concoct an evil potion that would render the drinker so unbelievably thirsty that he wouldn't have any choice but to get water from the surrounding lake. Hermione knew this was how Regulus had died before - thirsty beyond reason, crawling towards the bank of the small lake to scoop out a few handfuls of the icy cold water and subsequently getting dragged below by the cursed Inferi.

Nonetheless, she pointed her wand at the empty goblet to give it a try. " _Aguamenti_ ," she whispered. Predictably, no water was conjured.

"Hermione," he softly begged. "Water, please."

"I can't conjure water here," she said, frustrated. "I'm going to make the switch first, then we can get the hell away from here. Then, you can drink as much water as you like."

His face crumpled, his eyes darting greedily towards the dark water lapping temptingly near his feet.

"I'm sorry, Regulus, but I have to do this," she said, pointing her wand tip at his chest instead. Before he could react, she muttered a soft " _Petrificus Totalus"_ , turning him into stone. "I'm not taking any chances."

She carefully placed him on the ground, then rose to her feet, swiping her wayward tears away from her face as she determinedly marched towards the glowing basin.

Every step she took filled her with suffocating dark magic. Amongst all of the horcruxes they'd collected, Slytherin's locket was the one she was well-acquainted with. Her chest felt hot and tingly at the memory of the locket heavily hanging on her neck, whispering dark words that plagued her even during her quiet days.

Hermione pulled out the replica from her pocket, a small, wooden box, and a white cloth. She lifted the true horcrux away from the basin after wrapping it around the handkerchief, and deposited it inside the box. Hermione made her usual litany of warding spells, this time including more complicated spells, as she remembered all of the horrors and pain this specific horcrux had done to her.

Satisfied, she slipped the heavily warded box inside her pocket and placed the exact replica inside the basin.

"NO!"

She flinched in surprise and immediately swivelled around. To her horror, Regulus had broken free from her Body-Binding Jinx and was now crawling slowly towards the lake.

"No," she echoed in terror. She was too late in shooting another _Petrificus Totalus_ at the crawling Slytherin. Regulus greedily scooped a handful of lake water with both of his cupped palms. Even before he could take a sip from the icy cold water, two, rotting hands shot out and latched tightly onto his wrists. Regulus released a loud yelp and was yanked into the water, completely submerged by the time Hermione reached the edge.

"No, no, no," she said, blindly shooting fire spells as Inferi emerged from the water and scuttled towards her. She was able to spy Regulus's black mop of hair amidst the chaos in front of her and her rapid firing increased. "No, _not_ on my watch."

Tears swam in her vision but her wand waving was precise and resolute. One Inferi tried to jump onto her, but she screamed a loud _'Reducto'_ that blasted the monster away from her.

"HERMIONE! STAY PUT!" Peter cried from the other side. Distractedly, she could see that he was also rapidly firing numerous fire spells just to blast away the Inferi who were clambering towards him.

Hermione ignored him and blasted a clear path from the dais towards the icy, cold water. "Kreacher!" she croaked in panic. "Kreacher we need you now!"

One Inferi managed to yank her - with a single, mighty pull - under the water. The frigid water enveloped her whole body as Hermione was pulled in different directions, tugging her deeper and deeper into the water. Panic was swallowing her whole, the startling truth that she might actually _die_ today weighing heavily on her.

She tightly gripped her wand as the oxygen rapidly left her body. Using the last bit of energy she had, she thought of ' _Incendio Tria'_. She sobbed in relief as a huge ball of yellow, blinding light surrounded her and pulsed around the scrambling Inferi. With her momentary freedom, she acted quickly and pointed her wand tip against her face. She concentrated deeply for the incantation of the Bubble-Head Charm and gasped greedily as the bubble formed and offered her a new source of oxygen.

Hermione weakly shot another _Incendio Tria_ at the steadily swarming Inferi, and frantically looked around in search of Regulus's body. She spied him not too far from where she was and with two more blasts of _Incendio Tria_ , Hermione had cleared a path.

The black lake seemed suddenly awake, with mighty currents trying to wash her farther and farther away from Regulus. Weakened from the cursed liquid, the Slytherin had already passed out and Hermione would be damned if he'd still die today, despite her very presence in this cave.

This thought propelled her further into the water, tightly clutching onto his arm and blasting away two Inferi that had a firm hold on his leg.

"Regulus," she cried, voice muffled by the bubble covering her face. She spelled a Bubble Head Charm on him to give him oxygen too. But Regulus didn't awaken and her terror heightened.

The current was growing stronger, and when Hermione glanced upward, darkness blanketed over them, the outlines of the Inferi steadily moving towards them once more.

An anguished sob escaped from her lips. Perhaps, she was going to die in this cave too.

Hermione pulled Regulus closer to herself and encircled her arms around him. "I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I'm so sorry."

She tightly closed her eyes as she felt the Inferi steadily closing in around them.

A sudden, blinding light from above drove the animated creatures away. Hermione's eyes snapped open and she watched in awe as a constant stream of light gave her a clear path back to the surface of the water. Whatever despair had enveloped her a while ago was washed away with the terrified Inferi. Hermione began hastily swimming and kicking upwards, desperately clutching onto Regulus's body. She threw a barrage of fire spells at Regulus's feet to shake off some wayward Inferi that tried to drag them back down to the lake floor.

As Hermione neared the surface, an arm submerged into the water to pull them out. Hermione clung onto Peter's arm for dear life as he, with one, powerful heave, pulled her and Regulus back onto the stony island.

Hermione collapsed heavily on the jagged stones, coughing up water she'd swallowed.

"Hermione, are you all right?" Peter looked panic-stricken, tears streaming down from his eyes, but his hold on the light spell he'd conjured was unwavering.

"Le– leave," she chattered, her whole body shaking due to the iciness of the water. "We need t– to leave. _Now_."

Peter firmly nodded and glanced at the small creature dancing around him, balls of fire emerging from his puny hands which blasted away emerging Inferi. "Kreacher!" he barked. "Apparate us out of this cave! Now!"

The house-elf squeaked upon seeing his unconscious master, but quickly went into action and grabbed onto both Hermione and Regulus. Peter clutched his thin arm and ordered, "NOW!"

Hermione felt the pull at her navel, but it was gone almost instantly as she collapsed onto the slippery, jagged stones outside the cave she'd cursed a while ago.

Peter fell onto his knees and gathered Hermione in his arms. "Fuck, _fuck_ , I thought you were dead," he cried, his embrace tight and warm around Hermione.

The brunette shivered as the cold, sea breeze bit her icy cheeks. "Re– Regulus," she chattered, weakly pulling away from Peter. "Is he—"

"Master Regulus is alive!" Kreacher jovially exclaimed. Hermione turned her face away from Peter to glance at the unconscious heap beside her. Like her, Regulus was violently shaking, but the unmistakable rise and fall of his chest was a blessed sight. Granted, it was shallow, but it was _there_ and Hermione had never felt such humongous relief in her whole life.

Hermione shakily pointed her wand at herself and tried to utter a drying and warming charm, but her hand and mouth wouldn't cooperate. "Peter," she said. "I– I'm cold."

"Of course," her brother said. With two, quick slashes she was both warm and dry. He also did the same to Regulus, but the Slytherin remained unconscious and continued to violently shake.

"Regulus needs some tending," Hermione worriedly said, tears filling her eyes as she brushed away some of the hair from his forehead.

"Kreacher will take Master Regulus home—"

" _No_ ," Peter harshly cut off. When Kreacher looked at him with wide eyes, he continued, "Grimmauld Place is the least safe place for him, especially after everything that has happened today."

Hermione turned to the bewildered house-elf. "You have to leave, Kreacher—"

"Kreacher will not leave Master Regulus behind!"

Frustrated tears tumbled down from Hermione's eyes. " _Please_ , you have to go back to Grimmauld Place and ward his room," she insisted. "You have to make sure no one will know he's been missing. Regulus – he's – he'll be in grave danger if his parents realise what he was doing behind their backs. You don't want your Master to be in danger, do you?"

"No," the house-elf squeaked, his ears drooping in misery.

"We'll take care of him. I promise," Hermione said. "We'll soon return him once he is well. Do you understand, Kreacher?"

The house-elf still looked hesitant, his huge, tennis-ball eyes darting furtively at his unconscious master and the bushy-haired witch. Kreacher was undoubtedly devoted to his master as he'd demonstrated a while ago. He willingly ventured inside a cave just to save them even when he made it clear how he was deeply terrified of returning inside. No doubt he was trying to weigh his choices, trying to land on a decision that would greatly benefit Regulus.

Finally, to Hermione's relief, he gave a curt nod. He gingerly placed a hand over Regulus's for his goodbye, and with a snap of his fingers, the house-elf was gone.

"We should take him to St. Mungo's—"

" _No_ ," Hermione firmly cut him off. "It will raise too many questions. Regulus is the _Black heir_ ; the media would surely sensationalise this and create rumours that would be harmful to what we've been doing. I think it is best if we just take him home—"

"No," Peter gravely cut her off. He pierced her with his dark, blue eyes and added, "I have a better idea."

**-ooo-**

A yelp resounded in the dark room where Peter had brought her and Regulus. Too weakened from what had transpired back at the cave, Hermione collapsed messily on the floor. She warily glanced at Regulus, who continued to violently shake. Still unconscious, he rolled onto his side and vomited the huge amount of cursed liquid and lake water he'd swallowed a while ago.

"What the bloody fuck—"

Her eyes widened, recognising James's voice. All the lamps in his room were instantly lit up, bathing each and every corner of the lavish space in light.

James padded closer to the group, his wand gripped tightly in his hand, as he gaped down at the trio. He looked like he'd been sleeping before they'd arrived, his bare chest heaving deeply due to unadulterated shock.

"Sorry to intrude, Prongs," Peter lowly drawled, "but we have a situation."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, another cliffhanger. Sorry about that hehe.
> 
> This chapter was so freaking hard to write. Most of you are so excited for this chapter and I got a bit nervous about posting it. I hope I didn't disappoint at all huhu.
> 
> Also, I'm aware how Voldemort bewitched the boat to only hold one, adult person inside – Dumbledore knew this and brought Harry with him in HBP, as technically he was still underage, so there's a loophole. I also know I've been working really, really hard to stick to canon, so I hope I'd be forgiven for purposively ignoring this canon fact for the sake of this fanfic's plot ahahahaha.
> 
> See you tomorrow!
> 
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	37. chapter thirty-six

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**xxxvi.**

_**we left our date of birth and our history behind** _

(Mars by Sleeping at Last)

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**January 4, 1979**

Everything was a dizzying blur for Hermione.

At first, no one dared to move after Peter had spoken. Even Hermione held her breath, unsure as to why Peter had brought them to Potter Manor, _of all_ places. Peter looked tense, his blue eyes almost icy under the lights in James's bedroom, and his jaw was clenched so tightly, that she wouldn't be surprised if his gums started bleeding soon. James gaped at them like a fish out of water, his raven-coloured hair sticking up at ridiculous angles - his thick-rimmed glasses askew on the tip of his nose.

Then, beside her, Regulus rolled over on the carpet once more and retched. The cursed liquid slithered out of his mouth - ominous green soaking the rich, velvety carpet on the floor.

This brought action back into the room as both Peter and James reached for Regulus and hauled him onto the bed. Hermione pulled out her wand and spelled the vomit away, her eyes trained intently on the carpet, as she knew the boys were now looking pointedly in her direction.

"What the bloody hell happened?" James harshly asked.

Hermione slowly stood up from the floor and hesitantly glanced at the other two. Peter's face looked tight and gaunt, undoubtedly still plagued by visions of what had transpired back at the cave. James looked marvellously confused and _thunderous_ , his hazel eyes glinting at how dishevelled she looked. Her denim jeans were ripped in various places due to slipping on the jagged rocks. Peter may have spelled her dry and warm, but she was still filthy from her skirmish with the Inferi under the black lake.

The fact that she had almost died back at the cave crashed over her. Tears prickled her eyes and she hugged herself tightly at the feeling of hopelessness that had overcome her when she and Regulus were sinking farther and farther away from the surface of the water. Her skin still stung with the feeling of the Inferi's deathly grips. She kept replaying how they clambered on top of each other to do their master's bidding and drown Hermione.

She was quivering again, this time due to the horrors they had just gone through. Although she tried to convince herself they'd been successful - that they had gotten the horcrux… Everything that had happened back in the cave had awakened _all_ of Hermione Granger's memories of the war.

Instantly, Peter was in front of her, holding her tight. "Shh, you're safe," he soothed, dropping kisses on top of her bushy hair. "It's all right, Hermione. You're safe. You're _safe_."

She didn't realise she was starting to breakdown until she felt Peter's warmth. She took huge, gasping breaths, the feeling of drowning in the lake seizing her whole. She tightly clutched the back material of Peter's clothes, as if it was the anchor she needed to get back to shore. Peter started to rub circles on her back, whispering incoherent words of comfort against her ear. He didn't stop until she could properly breathe once more.

"She needs to change out of those clothes," James whispered.

Peter stiffly nodded his head. "I'm going to let go of you now, Hermione," he said, peering down at her with unadulterated worry in his blue eyes. "We need you to change out of your clothes, okay?"

Dumbly, she nodded her head and allowed him to pull away from her. Her hand, however, instinctively grasped onto his sleeve as her blurry eyes met James's gaze. Through her tears, she wasn't able to see what expression he was making. All she knew was he'd donned a white shirt to cover his bare chest and that he was extending his favourite, worn Gryffindor jumper towards her.

Peter gently pulled his arm away and urged her to change her clothes. The two boys turned their backs to give her privacy, but Hermione refused to turn away from them.

She shakily tore at her filthy clothes until she was in her knickers, before donning James's sweater. His smell instantly filled her senses, which helped her to marginally calm down.

"I– I'm decent now," she stammered, cheeks turning splotchy red when she remembered how she'd fallen apart in front of perhaps the two most important men in her life right now.

Peter was beside her again and cajoling her to sit down on a handsome, maroon couch in the room.

"I'm going to get some tea," James excused and left without another glance back.

Hermione shifted more comfortably on the couch and laid her head on Peter's shoulder. Her brother was still tense but was blessedly silent. Now that she had considerably calmed down, Hermione organised her thoughts, knowing that both Peter and James wouldn't stay silent long.

James returned with the promised tea, a bleary Pokey scuttling behind him whilst holding a tray. The house-elf's eyes momentarily widened upon seeing Hermione, but James urged her to do her tasks. Pokey poured tea for both Peter and James, but her master insisted he be the one to do it for Hermione. His house-elf begrudgingly relented and scuttled towards Regulus instead. Hermione watched as Pokey procured a curious, yellow potion from the pocket of her flowy skirt and made the unconscious wizard drink its contents until it was empty.

"What did Pokey give Regulus?" Hermione asked as soon as Pokey popped away.

"A potion to help with the dark magic he's emitting," James gruffly said. "He _stinks_ of residual dark magic. That's one of my Dad's inventions, able to slow down the side effects of whatever dark potion he's drunk. It'll be temporary though. He needs medical attention soon."

"He can't go to St. Mungo's," she firmly insisted.

James sighed and massaged his temples. "I figured as much," he said. "All the scandal and whatnot." He eyed the cup of tea in her hand and said, "Bottoms up."

She did as she was told and sipped her tea. Scrunching her nose, a peculiar taste washed over her tongue. She shot a suspicious look at James, who didn't look guilty at all. "Calming Draught, apologies," he explained. "Nothing harmful, Whiskers."

"You should have informed me first, you know," she murmured, but still took a few sips of the drugged tea, knowing she'd need it anyway. The effects of the draught were instant, as every nerve in her body was soothed serenely. A pleasant hum settled in Hermione's mind, and despite recounting the events that had transpired back in the cave, she didn't feel like she was drowning anymore.

James settled back beside Hermione, this time draping a fluffy comforter over her shoulders. With how very calm she felt right now, her eyes were already blearily closing, exhaustion completely taking over.

"Hermione," Peter said, nudging her awake, "you can't sleep yet."

A soft sigh escaped from her lips. "You won't rest until I tell you everything, will you?" she asked.

Peter's back snapped ramrod straight while James silently reached her hand under the comforter, interlacing their fingers together.

"I don't even know where to start," she glumly said. The events of the past few years raced into her mind's eye, the events of the _Second Wizarding War_ resurfaced too, and no matter how calm her mind was, everything just became a tangled mess again. Hermione couldn't form a single thought as to how to start sharing the secret she had been hiding for seventeen years.

"Maybe you can start with this."

Peter pulled out the wooden box that housed Slytherin's locket and passed it to her. The box hummed with the various wards she'd cast and she placed it on her lap, resigned.

James, however, grabbed the box from her lap and inspected it at eye-level. He pulled out his wand and tried to undo the wards she'd placed. He managed to break through most, but the last four wards proved to be very hard for him. "It's heavily warded," he pointed out, eyebrows knitting together. "Most were complicated enough, but I've come across them before. The last ones, though… They're almost the same as my Dad's wards on his Potions lab - which I could never break. Who placed these wards?"

"Hermione did."

His hazel eyes widened in shock, gaping at the silent witch sitting beside him. " _What_?" he gasped. "How did you even know these spells? I know you're bloody brilliant, Hermione, but I'm sure the last few ones are quite obscure."

"Besides the wards, what it houses worries me the most," Peter murmured. He pinned a stare on Hermione. "What is it? Why did you risk _your bloody life_ just to get this, Hermione?"

James paled at Peter's question but didn't say anything. The brunette expelled a soft sigh, knowing it was futile to come up with some elaborate lie that would keep them in the dark.

"You said you'd tell me _everything_ , Hermione," Peter reminded with a deep frown.

Despite the Calming Draught, her eyes misted up and the words started rushing inside of her, ready to burst out of her mouth. She wanted to surrender everything, to tell them everything, because she was tired – _so tired_ – of fighting her past and ignoring the inevitable.

Instead of answering Peter, however, Hermione pointed her wand at the wooden box still in James's hand and muttered a litany of counter curses which were tattooed in her mind. She ignored James's gasp when the wooden box effortlessly unlatched.

She then pulled the box away from the bespectacled wizard's hand and tentatively opened the lid. Dark magic from Slytherin's locket was now palpable, with ominous whispers swirling out from the glinting, emerald jewel.

"What the hell is that?" Peter asked, scrunching his nose at the suffocating dark magic.

"Slytherin's locket," James answered, recognition in his hazel eyes. His fingers lifted and he tried to touch the locket, an unseen force tempting him. But Hermione instantly latched onto his wrist, shaking whatever hold the horcrux had taken on her boyfriend.

"Don't touch it," she hissed. "Don't you _ever_ touch it. It's magic most foul. It will be unforgiving."

Peter ran a tired hand over his face and slumped forward on his seat. "You said you're not in cahoots with Voldemort," he started. "Regulus said you're bringing the fucking _Dark Lord_ down" — "What?!" James cried — "Please, please, _please_ , Hermione. What does it all mean? What does this locket have to do with anything? I want to understand. I want to know why you'd willingly allowed yourself to be dragged into that Inferi-infested lake just to save Regulus, despite knowing you might not come back alive."

James had gone deathly pale, mouth hanging open at everything Peter had said.

A tear slipped down from Hermione's eyes as she slammed the lid of the box closed, obscuring the horrible locket away from their eyes. "Regulus was telling the truth," she started, "we're trying to bring Voldemort down. And this" — she lifted the box — "is a part of it all."

"A part?" James yelped. "Bring Voldemort _down_?"

"This locket is a horcrux," she dully continued. "Have you heard of them?"

Peter shook his head but James perked up in recognition. "I've… come across that word before," he claimed. "There's a locked section in our library that houses some of the darkest books. Mum forbids me to snoop in there, so of course I didn't listen. There was this book – _Magicke Moste Evile_ – and I think there was section about horcruxes somewhere. I wasn't able to read it, though, because Mum immediately caught me."

Hermione was surprised such an evil book existed in the Potter Manor. But then again, as an old Pureblood with ancestors notorious for reading and collecting various kinds of books, it wasn't too farfetched. Hermione was just secretly thankful that they didn't dabble with the Dark Arts too, like the Blacks.

"It won't give you enough information about horcruxes, anyway," she murmured.

"You've read that book?" James asked with wide eyes. When Hermione gave him a withering glance, he grimaced. "Of course you did."

"What's a 'horcrux'?" Peter asked. "And why is it important in Voldemort's downfall."

"A horcrux… it's magic most foul." Hermione glanced unseeingly at the hidden horcrux on her hand and took a deep, shaky breath. "And it's important in Voldemort's downfall because… because it houses a piece of his soul and renders him immortal unless they are all destroyed."

James expelled a huge sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Of course he'd make those bloody things," he grumbled. Her boyfriend paused and blinked, before his hazel eyes grew wide in horror. "Wait. Did you just say _'they'_?"

"This isn't the only one," she dryly said, weakly gesturing at the box on her lap.

"How do _you_ know all about this?" her brother asked. He glanced at the unconscious Slytherin on James's bed and frowned. "Did Regulus tell you? Did he recruit you to join in this bloody cause?"

Hermione wryly smiled, remembering Regulus's shocked face as plain as a day, as she shook her head. "No," she simply said. "I told him about it. _I'm_ the one who recruited _him_."

Both James and Peter were flummoxed by her words, eyebrows knitting together as they digested what she'd said. The Potter heir shot up from his seat and started to pace, a worried frown on his face.

"How did you know about Voldemort's downfall then? When, as _Aurors_ , we've been trying to interrogate his staunch followers for ages just to find out what it was."

There it was. The right question to all the secrets she could reveal. All throughout her seventeen years in this world, Hermione had never once thought she'd arrive at this exact situation, wherein she'd have no other choice but to tell them everything – the potion, Hermione Granger, all the atrocities she had seen. Everything.

"Because…" she whispered, slumping forward, "because I'm not from here."

She settled on the same answer she'd told Regulus before, and the words just tumbled out from her mouth. Peter had grown quiet beside her while James ruined his carpet with his increasing pacing.

Hermione didn't dare look at their faces, afraid of what she'd see in them. Instead, she pointedly looked at the wooden box in her hand and told them about her best friend, the beacon of all light and hope, and the unending Second Wizarding War. She told them of the obscure potion he had found and how determined they had been to brew it so they could flee from their reality. She told them how her best friend died and she was the only one who successfully drank the potion. She told them that when she woke up once more, she was reborn as Hermione Pettigrew. She told them that she desperately tried to keep quiet, to keep herself away from danger, but she managed to love this world so much and all the people that came with it, and she just couldn't look away anymore.

By the time she was finished, a steady stream of tears had slipped down from her eyes. James had grown very still, too horrified at everything she had told them.

Besides her sniffles, none of them spoke.

Hermione felt like a huge weight had lifted off her shoulders. No matter if they believed her or not, she felt relieved that she didn't have to keep this secret anymore. It scared her, however, how they would react to her story, that they'd think she was barmy by associating herself with a Death Eater.

"Why—"

The brunette flinched and hesitantly looked at Peter. His face looked almost ghostly white, his eyes too wide and unnaturally glassy.

Slowly, Peter turned his head to look at her. "Why did you keep this all to yourself?" he harshly croaked, his eyes growing bright with a mixture of panic, of grief, and of disbelief. "After everything you've said— with the horcrux hunt and— I…" His face crumpled as tears sprang in his eyes. "You could have told me, Hermione. I'm your _brother_ , damn it! I could have helped you with this dangerous mission. You should have come to _me_. I could have—"

His words died down as his breath hitched, turning his face away to hide his tears.

Hermione felt like she'd been slapped. "Because…" Her voice was barely above a whisper as she miserably closed her eyes. "Because, it's _dangerous_. And I didn't tell you because I knew you'd insist on getting involved. Hermione Granger had seen too many deaths to last all of her alternate selves a lifetime. I can't—" She swallowed down a lump lodged in her throat and swiped her tears away. "Someone important to me might _die_ because of what I'm doing and I can't have that."

To her surprise, James suddenly collapsed on the carpeted floor just beside her knees. Hermione's eyes widened when she noted the tears in his hazel eyes, raw fear painted there. "Did you ever stop and think what would happen to _us_ if _you_ died?" he whispered. He reached for her hands and tightly clutched them against his chest. Honest-to-Merlin, he looked really terrified at the thought she could have lost her life by embarking on this dangerous journey with only Regulus as her companion.

Hermione gently pulled one of her hands away from his grip to brush her fingers against his wet cheek. "Better for my life than those I've grown to really care about," she murmured in return.

" _No_ ," Peter vehemently snapped, determinedly glaring at Hermione through his tears. " _No_. Your life is just as valuable as ours. You're barmy if you think we'd just stand aside whilst you carelessly searched for dark artifacts with Regulus Black."

"Peter—"

James suddenly sprang to his feet and resumed his pacing. "You're right," he distractedly muttered as he furiously wiped his remaining tears away. "This cannot go on like this."

"Please—"

"I think we should tell Dumbledore now," Peter said, ignoring Hermione completely. He glanced at the wall clock above James's bed. "It's three in the morning, though. I'm not sure if Dumbledore's already awake."

"He said to contact him immediately if something huge came up," James interjected. "And I don't know about you, mate, but this is _bloody fucking huge_."

Hermione scowled. "Will you both just shut up and listen to me?"

"No," they flatly said in unison.

"You've endangered yourself one too many times already," her brother added with a dark glare. "I'm not going to let you decide on things _alone_ anymore."

The brunette tiredly ran a hand over her face. "Do we really have to get Dumbledore involved?" she muttered, quite uneasy at the fact that she'd be telling her deepest, darkest secrets to the very same wizard she'd been avoiding just as much as she'd been avoiding Voldemort.

"Yes," James said with a tone of finality in his voice.

"Besides," Peter added, pointing a finger at Regulus's unconscious form, "he needs immediate medical attention and Dumbledore may know someone from the Order who can help."

" _Fuck_ , I almost forgot about Regulus Black," James groaned. "We have no choice but to tell Sirius about all of this. He's going to go ballistic, bloody hell."

"Isn't he with Remus right now?" When James nodded his head, Peter grimaced. "I think it'd only be fair if we tell Remus too," her brother said, glancing at Hermione for permission. The brunette sighed and stiffly nodded her head, knowing that the Marauders were practically joined at the hip and hiding such a colossal secret from each other would put a strain on their relationship.

Peter stood up from the couch. "I need to inform the other blokes," he said, already fishing out a copper knut from his pocket. Hermione instantly recognised it as the coin with the Protean Charm she'd gifted to them on their graduation. "I hope Sirius was able to fetch Moony from his mission already."

James nodded his head, sauntering towards his desk to grab a parchment and quill. "I'm going to inform Dumbledore," he said.

Hermione massaged her aching temples. "What can I do to help?" she asked.

"Rest for now, Whiskers," James said, abandoning his half-finished letter to stride towards Hermione. He bent down and gently pushed her onto the couch, securely tucking her underneath the fluffy comforter. "We're going to wake you up once Dumbledore's here."

"But… I– I want to do something," she weakly protested. Her lids felt heavy and she was dead tired, but Hermione felt resting after such a huge revelation wasn't appropriate.

James's face softened as he sat down on the floor beside the couch. With a deft swish of his wand, the half-finished letter flew into his awaiting hand. He gingerly held Hermione's hand, interlacing his fingers with hers, and said, "Try to sleep, Hermione. I'll be right here if you need me."

She lightly frowned, wanting to protest more, but Hermione indulged the bespectacled wizard and nodded her head. She settled comfortably on the couch and watched James finish writing the letter, his hand providing the profound comfort she terribly needed right now.

**-ooo-**

Her eyes fluttered open when a hand brushed against her cheek. Hermione blinked her sleepiness away and focused on James, whose soft eyes were gazing down at her. His lips opened and closed, but Hermione was still disoriented from sleep to understand what he was saying.

"What?" she asked, followed by a tremendous yawn that stretched far and wide on her weary face.

A small, fond smirk appeared on his face. "I said," he repeated, "Dumbledore's here and he wants to meet you."

The brunette sighed, knowing it would be useless to delay meeting the Headmaster. Peter came into view and urged her to get up.

Hermione glanced down at her clothes. Although still large for her frame, James's sweater only covered her body up to her mid-thigh. The sleeves kept on slipping down her shoulders, exposing the strap of her bra. She was terribly underdressed, and she was about to have _the_ talk with the greatest wizard in the world.

Annoyed, Hermione stood up and decided to wrap the fluffy comforter around her shoulders just to give herself some semblance of decency.

James's fingers interlaced through hers, as he tugged gently so she would move faster. Peter was close to her other side, ridiculously tense and looking as though he was ready to pounce on anyone who dared touch his little sister.

Her heart hummed, knowing she was _safe_ if these two boys were beside her. Hermione wondered if she'd been stupidly reckless for keeping them in the dark all these years, only to keep them alive.

James led them towards the Drawing Room and before they could enter, Hermione took a deep, shuddering breath to calm her nerves. The Calming Draught had long worn off and so all of her nerves were going haywire once more. Based on the tense faces of the two boys beside her, it looked as though they needed a dose of said potion too.

James pushed the doors of the drawing room open to let them in. Hermione skidded to a halt, bewildered that Dumbledore wasn't alone in the room. The Headmaster was accompanied by James's parents, already in their night robes and looking quite weary. Madame Pomfrey was surprisingly part of the group too, accompanied by Mary MacDonald, who was wearing handsome lime-green robes.

"Mary!" Peter gasped, already meeting the grinning blonde halfway. He engulfed her in a huge hug and Hermione deduced that they hadn't seen each other for quite some time. "What are you doing here?"

"I was asked to come for Order business," she explained, glancing briefly at the imposing Head of the Order. "Someone needs tending to, I assume."

She worriedly glanced at Hermione, whose comforter was still draped over her shoulders, and then at James, who was still reverently holding onto Hermione's hand. "Is everybody all right?" she nervously asked.

"I believe your patient is upstairs, Miss MacDonald," Dumbledore softly said with a kind smile.

"He's in my room," James added.

Dumbledore turned to the Mediwitch. "Please accompany Miss MacDonald, Poppy," he gently suggested.

"Of course, Headmaster," she said. "Come along then."

Mary reluctantly extricated herself out of Peter's arms and trailed behind the older witch. She placed a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder when she passed by her, and then disappeared upstairs with Madame Pomfrey.

"Please," Dumbledore said, gesturing at the maroon chairs in the quaint drawing room. "Don't just stand there. Have a seat!"

James tugged a hesitant Hermione towards one of the couches in the room and sat her beside Euphemia. He took her other side while Peter sat on the remaining vacant armchair in the room, right beside the blazing hearth.

"Before you tell me what this emergency is about," the wise wizard started, his blue eyes curiously gazing at Hermione, "I'm afraid we're still waiting for someone to arrive."

As if on cue, the door banged open again. In came a wizard Hermione could recognise, despite his complete set of eyes and cleanly cropped hair.

Alastor Moody was terrifying, even though he was twenty years younger. Hermione clearly remembered the retired Auror on his last days during the Golden Trio's horcrux hunt, looking worse for wear with a terrible limp and a grouchy expression. This imposing Auror standing in front of her looked like a rugged Auror, with leather and chains adorning his well-built body. There were tattoos snaking around his exposed skin and battle scars from numerous encounters with dark wizards. His blue eyes, however, were still as piercing as ever and Hermione shrank at his intense gaze, feeling as if he was scrutinising everything she had ever done in her whole life.

To Hermione's surprise, both James and Peter suddenly jumped onto their feet and stood at their tallest height.

Moody sneered in their direction. "At ease, lads," he gruffly said. "We're not at the Ministry."

James and Peter exchanged hesitant looks, before settling themselves back onto their chairs.

"Alastor," Dumbledore warmly greeted, as if he was just visiting for tea. "Kind of you to join us today."

"This better be important, Dumbledore," he growled, crossing his arms against his chest as he glared at everybody in the room. "It's _four o'clock_ in the morning, for Merlin's sake!"

"Perhaps some tea, Alastor," Euphemia cordially offered, unfazed by his sourness.

"No, thank you," Moody clipped, choosing to stand by the seat next to Dumbledore, so he could focus his stare on Hermione. "Is she the reason why we're all gathered here today?"

Hermione felt her cheeks heating up as all eyes settled on her. She lightly smiled at James's mother, who placed a comforting hand on top of her knee.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled brightly behind his half-moon spectacles, his blue eyes steadily meeting hers. Hermione instantly felt some light probing in her mind - something you could easily miss if you weren't trained. She instantly shut all of her thoughts behind a huge wall erected in her mind, her eyebrows knitting together at the sheer concentration she needed, just to keep Dumbledore out.

"You don't need to use Legilimens on me," she lightly said, her gaze unwavering. "I'm going to tell you everything."

If it were possible, his blue eyes glinted more brightly under the cheery lights of the cosy drawing room. His eyes looked almost dangerous, _calculating_ , and Hermione once again wondered why she and her friends had blindly agreed to do everything he said, and had accepted everything he _offered_ , no matter how meagre it had been. She deeply respected Dumbledore, because he'd truly been a great leader and teacher to them all. But she didn't know how his brilliant mind worked. One of Severus Snape's dying words after he had been attacked by Nagini was that Harry Potter was expected to sacrifice his life in the end, because he was an unintentional horcrux. Dumbledore had known that all along, but had never told them.

So yes, she deeply respected Dumbledore, but the way he'd handled them all, like they were mere pawns in his huge chess game against Voldemort, left a bitter taste in Hermione's mouth.

"Forgive me for the intrusion," the Headmaster smoothly replied. "But we are at war, my dear. I need to know what is true and what isn't."

He sounded truly genuine and Hermione slumped forward, feeling extremely exhausted once more. "I'm not going to lie," she earnestly said. "I'm — it's tiring to keep everything in. I've already placed myself and Regulus's life in danger. I do believe it's time to tell the truth now."

"The truth about what, Miss Pettigrew?"

She met his piercing gaze once again. "About everything," she said. "About my past. About Voldemort. About his _horcruxes_."

At the mention of the latter, Euphemia gasped, a hand flying to her mouth. Fleamont looked deathly pale. Dumbledore's eyes widened a bit, his only indication that he was perplexed at her confession. Only Moody looked thunderous, crossing the small expanse of carpet between them to stand menacingly over Hermione.

"Where did you learn that, girl?" he gruffly said, looking like the crazed, paranoid Mad-Eye Moody Hermione Granger had grown acquainted with in the end.

James protectively threw an arm in front of Hermione, acting as a barrier between the incensed Auror and the frowning brunette.

"Alastor, please, there's no need for that," Dumbledore good-naturedly claimed. "Come sit beside me."

A vein popped in Moody's temple as he tried to steer himself away from Hermione and gruffly walked towards Dumbledore. Again, he refused to sit down and chose to stand behind the Headmaster, this time not letting his eyes stray away from Hermione at all.

"Now, Hermione," Dumbledore said. Hermione tore her gaze away from the tense wizard and glanced back at Dumbledore. The twinkling in his eyes had dimmed into a hard glint, calculatingly looking at Hermione. Thankfully, he didn't try to probe her mind again. "If I may ask, where did you learn such a thing? No girl your age should know about such dark artifacts."

"It's— you may not believe me," she deliberately started. "You might think I'm barmy."

To her surprise, Dumbledore released a low, humoured chuckle. "Believe me when I say I've seen and heard a lot of things in my life that may be unbelievable to others," he placated.

She felt James's grip on her hand tighten, a constant comfort by her side. She met Peter's eyes across from her and her brother gave the tiniest of nods, encouraging her to start.

Hermione then took a deep breath and told her tale. She didn't stop, even when she heard surprised gasps from the other occupants in the room. She didn't stop, even when Moody growled a question, clearly in disbelief at everything she was saying. Her eyes never strayed from Dumbledore's, though. His face was the perfect picture of calmness, taking in everything she was saying without even a peep to stop her storytelling. But she'd seen his eyes, how they widened marginally, darkening with each revelation she recounted.

Since this was her third time telling her story, the words flowed out from her like a raging storm, and she was only able to stop talking all together when she was gasping for breath.

By the time she was finished, silence met her story. Moody had long since plopped down beside Dumbledore on the couch, too disoriented with the things that flowed out from her mouth. Hermione could also feel how James's parents had grown very still beside her, trying to digest everything they had heard.

"If… if you need proof," Hermione slowly added after taking a few breaths, "I can surrender all of my memories to you, Headmaster sir. You can view them in your pensieve any time you like."

"Is there anything else you want to add, Miss Pettigrew?" Dumbledore asked with a piercing glance.

Hermione steadily held his gaze despite how loudly her heart thudded inside her ribcage. She had conveniently left the identity of Harry Potter out, constantly addressing him as her best friend and the Chosen One. She also left out the fact that _he_ was James Potter's and Lily Evans's son, and that said parents of The-Boy-Who-Lived would not survive this war. Hermione still had no idea how to tell this particular fact to these people. She didn't speak about the prophecy, either. For all she knew, it might not even be prophesied by Sybill Trelawney at all in this timeline.

"No, sir," she firmly replied.

She was sure Dumbledore didn't look convinced, but Hermione refused to crack under his stare.

"Very well then," Dumbledore softly said, tightly clasping his hands on his lap, "I believe we've already found our means of defeating Voldemort."

Moody's lips twisted into a deep frown. "I'm going to speak with the Longbottoms to discuss how to gather the remaining horcruxes," he gruffly said.

"There's no need," Hermione softly quipped. "I know where all of them are."

Moody scowled at the young witch. "Of course you do," he said with a resigned sigh.

Hermione pointed the heavily warded box at the two wizards. "This one houses Salazar Slytherin's locket," she said. "I… _well_ , retrieving this was difficult, but we managed to get it."

"Yeah, and it almost cost you your life," James angrily muttered.

She sadly glanced at him and squeezed his hand for comfort.

"I need the list of locations for the horcruxes," Moody drawled. "What they look like, where they will be hidden—"

Hermione cut him off with a deep sigh. "I told you there are five of these vile things," she said, grimacing at the hidden horcrux. "Regulus and I have already managed to gather the other three." She weakly lifted the box from her lap. "Well, now _four_."

Peter expelled a dark expletive under his breath while the others gasped in disbelief, their eyes widening at her words.

"And where, pray tell, are you keeping them?" Dumbledore asked, frowning for the first time. Even he looked disappointed by her actions, but Hermione couldn't care less. She already had _four_ of Voldemort's horcruxes. That was all that mattered.

"In my trunk—"

"—in _your_ trunk—"

"—heavily warded," Hermione ground out, throwing a reassuring glance at the deathly pale Euphemia. "I know that was stupid, but it was the safest decision I could make. Nobody got hurt. I promise."

"If you don't mind me asking again," the Headmaster asked, "how were you able to procure these horcruxes?"

Hermione grew uncomfortable once more as all eyes latched onto her. She brushed a stray curl away from her face, feeling herself heating up under their intense gaze. "Well, the first thing we procured was Ravenclaw's Diadem," she deliberately started. "It wasn't too hard to find. It was in Hogwarts, in the Room of Requirement."

" _Hogwarts_?" Fleamont thundered at the same time his son asked, confused, "The Room of Requirement?"

"It's a secret room," Hermione said, choosing to answer James's question. "Not too many students know about it."

"Ravenclaw's Diadem has been missing for centuries," Dumbledore pointed out.

Hermione softly snorted. "Apparently not," she said. "The next one we got was Helga Hufflepuff's Cup. It's —" She turned red, uncomfortable about confessing their breaking into Gringotts, which was practically a crime worthy of an Azkaban sentence. "You have to understand that it was the only way. No one got hurt. We've used a few _Confundus_ spells, yes, but that was it." She cleared her throat when Dumbledore quirked an eyebrow. "I… _well_ , I drank Polyjuice Potion to look like Bellatrix Lestrange, so that Regulus and I could access the Lestrange vault and get the horcrux."

"I'm sorry," Peter drawled, his voice strangely high pitched. "But did you just _fucking_ say you broke into Gringotts?"

Moody's eyes had widened like saucers. "You _broke_ into Gringotts?" he echoed. "A heavily warded establishment? I thought they had many means of removing any concealments, including Polyjuice Potion?"

"Never mind how we did it," Hermione hastily added. "At least we got the horcrux."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled once more, this time in pure amusement. "And the last?"

"The diary's housed in the Malfoy Manor," she continued. "This time it was only Regulus who managed to get it. He's close with the Malfoys, after all. He knew the Manor like the back of his hand." She brushed another errant curl behind her ear and frowned. "So, I already have all four of them in my possession. Voldemort's very last horcrux is the Gaunt ring, hidden somewhere near his Muggle father's home. Regulus and I still hadn't made any plans on how to retrieve it yet. As for destroying the four…" She made a face. "Believe me when I say I wanted to get rid of them as soon as possible. But horcruxes are difficultto destroy. There's always _Fiendfyre_ or basilisk venom."

"I know some Aurors who are well-versed with _Fiendfyre_ , Dumbledore," Moody snippily said. "I can ask them to destroy them."

Hermione's eyes never strayed from Dumbledore. "I know that _Fiendfyre_ is the most plausible choice," she continued.

"But?" Dumbledore asked, noting the hesitation on her face.

" _But_ , there's a dormant basilisk underneath Hogwarts," she hastily said. "It will awaken in 1992 and petrify a lot of students. If I may suggest, I think it is better if we kill the basilisk before it wreaks havoc and procure the venom at the same time. It's like hitting two birds with one stone."

"A basilisk?" Fleamont gasped. "Dear me, in _Hogwarts_?" His widened eyes stared at Dumbledore, suddenly enraged. "And this is in _your_ school?"

Euphemia shakily placed a hand on top of his arm to placate him.

Dumbledore aged a few centuries right before her eyes. He looked weary and distressed - she had never seen the Headmaster look like this – past nor present. Hermione felt a little ashamed. Maybe despite his manipulative ways, Dumbledore still genuinely wanted everything to go back to normal and to vanquish every evil thing in this world.

"I may have to talk with your Aurors after all, Moody," the Headmaster gravely said. "I believe her suggestion is the better choice. You have to tell them about the basilisk, but this _must_ be kept confidential." He threw a warning glare at Euphemia and Fleamont. "I understand the fear you feel, but Miss Pettigrew has assured us that the basilisk is dormant as of now. If we are to defeat it, the best way to do that is when the children are safely home."

Fleamont still looked terribly tense, but tilted his head in acknowledgement.

"I'll contact you immediately once I've produced a list," Moody said. "I'm going to talk with the Order members in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

"Thank you, Alastor," the older wizard replied. His eyes then swept back to Hermione and he frowned. "As for the four horcruxes in your possession, I'm afraid you will have to surrender them to me, Miss Pettigrew."

Her shoulders slumped down in relief, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "That's fine," she said. "I want to get rid of them anyway."

Dumbledore grew contemplative, his lips thinly pursed as if he was deep in thought. "Also, I think your knowledge is too valuable," he added. "I know you still have a few months left in Hogwarts, but I'm afraid I have no choice but to officially recruit you into the Order of the Phoenix."

"Albus!" Euphemia exclaimed, a hand over her heart. "She is too young."

Hermione wryly smiled at the worried older witch. "There is no young or old in war," she whispered kindly. "Only survive or be killed."

She saw how James's and Peter's eyes widened in recognition. With everything she had revealed so far, the sudden understanding was clearly painted in their expressions, now realising the heavy implications of her words, the last time she had uttered them.

"She will not be going on any missions during her stay at Hogwarts," Dumbledore assured the worried couple. "I am still the Headmaster after all. I'd rather Miss Pettigrew focuses on her upcoming NEWTs and her remaining Head Girl duties."

Hermione softly snorted, thinking that such things shouldn't be prioritised at a time like this. Dumbledore quirked an eyebrow at her reaction, promptly making her mutter an apology under her breath.

"Well then," Dumbledore said, climbing to his feet and clasping his hands together. "This has been quite an enlightening meeting, but I believe we must take our leave. Fawkes will be reborn today and I do not want to miss it for the world. Rest assured I'll be back later today to further discuss my plans."

Hermione glanced at Dumbledore dubiously, highly convinced he was going on another top-secret mission he could not share with the others.

"Miss Pettigrew," he then said, as they too stood up from their seats to see Dumbledore out. "I have to say that I am very disappointed with how you've kept this all to yourself all of these years, managing not only to endanger your life, but also Mister Black's life."

Tears prickled in her eyes, her guilt brewing in the pit of her stomach at the mention of the unconscious Slytherin.

Dumbledore's expression softened at her tears. "But you must know that you are not alone in this fight, that you should not carry this burden alone." He expelled a soft sigh and gave her a small, gentle smile. "You have to start trusting us too, if you want to end Voldemort's tyranny."

The tears now freely slipped from Hermione's eyes and she surprised the Headmaster when she tightly gripped the sleeve of his robe. "Voldemort must die," she croaked, beseeching. " _Please_. Voldemort must die."

Her plea reverberated throughout the silent drawing room. Even Moody's face briefly crumpled at how desperate she sounded.

Dumbledore placed his hand on top of hers, his warmth already reassuring enough for Hermione. "I will make sure of it," he said with a resolute smile.

Hermione nodded her head in acceptance and hastily wiped her tears away.

"Now, before I forget." The old wizard rummaged inside his pocket and gave her a crumpled piece of paper. "Since you are already an official member of the Order of the Phoenix, I think it is fair if I let you know where our Headquarters is."

Hermione curiously grasped the folded parchment, not sure what to expect. Grimmauld Place had been the official Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix before, but since it was currently occupied by Sirius's family, using it this time was out of the question.

"Oh," she gasped as her eyes scanned the scrap of parchment.

_The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is in the East Tower, Potter Manor._

She glanced at James, wide-eyed, who was already sheepishly smiling at her. "I couldn't tell you at that time, Whiskers. I'm sorry," he said. "It's under the Fidelius Charm, you see."

"Well that explains why I don't see it," she said, passing the paper back to Dumbledore.

"I believe there's been enough excitement for today," Dumbledore finally said. "Fleamont, Euphemia, I'm terribly sorry for the intrusion." His eyes then warmly swept over the younger witch and wizards. "Rest for now. We will see each other soon."

Dumbledore disappeared in a flash of emerald green, with Moody closely following suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, welp, they now know! I'm going to dub this chapter, and the two chapters after this, as the 'Hermione's Revelation Arc' lmao. It's going to be a very busy day for our favorite heroine lol. Also, kudos to those who've correctly guessed where the Order HQ is hahaha. I've hinted it during the Potter-Pettigrew formal dinner so I wasn't sure if y'all noticed it. The Order HQ during the First Wizarding War was unmentioned in the wikis, just so you know, so I thought it'll be wicked if it'll be in Potter Manor ahaha.
> 
> And now, WOW! It gives me legit fuzzy feelings how y'all been super excited for my updates every day huhu. Your reviews really brighten my day. Virtual hugs and kisses to you all!
> 
> See you tomorrow!
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes)! I post fancasts and some random stuff about this story there, so drop by if you fancy hehe


	38. chapter thirty-seven

* * *

**xxxvii.**

_**we will call this place our home** _

(North by Sleeping at Last)

* * *

**January 4, 1979**

Hermione tried her very hardest to sleep after such an exhausting night, but frustratingly, every fibre in her body was still very much awake.

Madame Pomfrey had told her that the dark potion wouldn't have any long-lasting effects on Regulus anymore, but he was still unconscious and needed to rest. Hermione insisted that she wanted to stay beside him and wait for him to awake, but the others were firm in their decision of making her rest first. James brought her to the bedroom she'd slept in before, when she had visited the Potter Manor during her school break. She had no choice but to trail behind him, mechanically slipping inside the soft mattress and letting him tuck her in.

He had long since left, promising to fetch her for breakfast later that day. Hermione merely told him a soft thank you and watched him leave.

Since then, she had waited for the elusive sleep to come, her eyes trained intently on the vast window inside the room. Hermione watched unseeingly as hints of yellow and orange started to paint the sky.

She blearily glanced away from the window when she heard her door creak open. Peter silently slid inside, slowly closing the door behind him, before turning around to look at Hermione.

"You're still awake?" he asked, surprise on his face.

"I can't sleep," she confessed. "What are you doing here?"

"I can't sleep either," he said. Peter padded against the carpeted floor and pulled an elegant chair beside Hermione's bed. Almost immediately, his hand found hers and his eyes grew worried. "How are you feeling?"

Hermione softly laughed. "To be honest?" she started. "A lot of things. But… but above all, I think… I think I'm relieved."

His blue eyes glistened with unshed tears as his hold on her hand tightened. "You really gave me quite a scare back at the cave, Hermione," he softly said. "When you were dragged inside the lake by an Inferius, and you didn't resurface, I thought—" He choked up as the tears slipped down from his eyes. "It was — for one, horrible minute, I thought I'd lost you forever. I didn't realise that Kreacher had heard your plea to come and had arrived just in time to save the day."

"I'm sorry, Petey," she whispered, because it was honestly the only thing she could think of saying right now.

He brushed a few tears away from his eyes and smiled sadly at his sister. "I didn't know you'd been through so much," he said.

"I wasn't really planning to reveal everything," she pointed out with a wry smile. "It was… it was a complicated past. I told Regulus once that I sometimes thought Hermione Granger was a distant, elaborate dream – a _nightmare_ , really – because I've grown accustomed to being Hermione Pettigrew for seventeen years already." She snorted in disbelief. "I'm even referring to her as a _she_ instead of a _me_."

"Tell me," he continued, "was she a Gryffindor?"

"Does that even matter?" she asked with a chuckle. When Peter pointedly stared, she sighed, "Yes, she was."

"Of course she was," Peter fondly said. "After everything she went through, she seemed like a brave warrior."

"Brave," Hermione dryly echoed. "Running away from everything doesn't seem like the bravest thing to do."

"If things started to get hopeless, don't you think the only thing to do is to run away?" he asked with a firm glance.

"I guess." Tears pooled in her eyes, remembering her last remaining days as Hermione Granger. "I don't remember much about my previous life anymore. Small details they may be, but they were _her_ memories. But she'd been really brave. Staring down a three-headed dog in the eyes during her first year, getting petrified by a basilisk during second year, facing a werewolf in her third… the list just goes on and on. But her best friend. He was… he was the bravest of them all."

Peter leaned forward to gather her in his arms. "Everything's still so confusing for me," he admitted. "I-I mean. A time traveller! _My sister_!"

"I'd really like to think of it as more of being reborn into another person with my old memories," she pointed out with a wet chuckle. "I've lived Hermione Pettigrew's life for seventeen years after all."

He pulled away from her and sadly stared into her blue eyes. "I'd respect your past," he slowly started. "Actually, I really want to know more about her, if you'd let me. But – but, here – _now_ – you're my sister. And as your big brother, I want to protect you from the evilness in this world, shield you if I really can." A single tear slipped down from his eyes when he gave her a small smile. "But I know you won't hide yourself away without a fight. You're a bloody force to be reckoned with, Hermione Pettigrew. I know you won't listen to me at all if I tell you to stay out of this mess."

She sniffed and pulled him once more into a hug. "I'm sorry, Petey," she said. "I… I tried that before. I tried to stay quiet and look the other way once things started to get too complicated, because I remembered all the pain and the turmoil. I remembered all the deaths and — it was too much for me to handle. But I've really grown to love this world. I've really grown to love everybody in it. I can't just stand aside, especially now that I have something that could defeat Voldemort."

He released a sound that was a cross between a laugh and a sob. "I always knew you'd be the death of me when you were born into this world." Hermione's face crumpled, her hold on him tightening. "I'm _infinitely_ proud of you, Hermione. Never forget that."

**-ooo-**

James silently padded through the corridors of his home after being roused from his sleep by Pokey. The house-elf had popped inside the guest room to shake him awake, declaring that lunch had been prepared and that the Master and Mistress expected him to join them soon. James was actually surprised he'd slept through the morning, noting it was already a few minutes past twelve in the afternoon. But then again, after the exhausting events earlier that day, it was understandable that his parents would let them sleep in.

Peter had long gone home to finish his report for Moody and to make sure that Anya wasn't suspicious. He'd already Flooed a change of clothes for Hermione, with a note of promising to get back as soon as he could.

Before popping towards Hermione's bedroom to get her for lunch, James dropped by his own bedroom where Regulus Black was still taking up residence. Pokey had told him the Black heir hadn't woken up since being tended by Madame Pomfrey and Mary, but he noted that colour had now appeared on his cheeks. Regulus looked better already and James took that as a good sign.

As he neared Hermione's room, her revelation replayed in his mind once more.

He was still in disbelief that his girlfriend had come from a different timeline, with a different name and a different appearance, apparently. She spoke of a best friend, whom she'd willingly devoted her life to, and an unending war against Voldemort. He really didn't want to believe her at first, because it was _truly_ preposterous. But the way she'd tearfully retold her past, and how Dumbledore wholly – begrudgingly – accepted her story, made him hesitantly believe.

He readied himself when he finally reached Hermione's bedroom door. She'd been through so much already and he shouldn't bombard her with more questions. He still wasn't privy to their mission back at the cave and James wasn't sure if he wanted to know all of the details. Regulus's state and Peter's terrified eyes when they had appeared on his bedroom floor, was already enough to scar him for a lifetime.

James softly knocked against the wooden door and strained his ear for her voice. When, after his third knock he did not receive a reply, James gingerly grabbed onto the doorknob and turned it.

He flinched when the door creaked and he hastily poked his head inside. Hermione was still fast asleep on her bed, her comforter covering her all the way up to her chin.

James nervously glanced behind him, trying to see if his parents were lurking about. Euphemia would surely never let it slide if he went inside the room of an unchaperoned lady, especially under their own roof. James still found the whole Pureblood custom ridiculous and obstinate, but his mother wanted to practice them as much as possible. James had indulged her for years, just eternally grateful that despite the Pureblood norms and such, his family had never embraced the Dark Arts with open arms.

After making sure his mother was not in sight, he quickly slipped inside and closed the door behind him, flinching once more when it emitted a loud creak. Hermione shifted on her bed but still didn't wake.

He slowly approached the slumbering brunette, his eyes instantly latching onto her face. Her golden hair was splayed around her head like a riotous halo, framing her serene face. A small smile unknowingly slipped on his face as he leant down and lightly traced Cassiopeia dusted on her nose and cheeks.

He was instantly brought back to the first Valentine's Day he'd spent in the library, seeing Hermione sleeping soundly after hours and hours of slaving over her studies for her OWLs. A bemused smile flitted on his lips, remembering it had been the first time he'd admitted to himself that he liked Hermione. It seemed so long ago now.

Her eyelids flickered and James's fingers stilled. Hermione blearily opened her eyes, her eyebrows slowly knitting together as if confused.

"Hi," he greeted, his heart fluttering inside his chest at the sight of her pretty, blue eyes. "In case you've forgotten, you're in Potter Manor."

Her forehead smoothed in remembrance. Her eyes briefly darted at the empty chair beside her bed. "Where's Peter?" she asked.

"He went home to do some Auror work," he replied. "He'll be back soon."

Hermione nodded her head. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to fetch you for lunch." When her eyes slightly widened in surprise, he smiled. "My parents let us sleep in. It has been a tiring morning for as all."

Her cheeks bloomed red as she sheepishly smiled. Hermione then slowly sat up on the bed, her comforter falling onto her lap.

James eyed her dishevelled hair, an amused smile stretching wide on his face. She truly had monstrous hair, with tangled strands messily knotting all around her face. She looked really adorable with her sleepy face and bed hair and James had to stop himself from reaching forwards and giving her a kiss. Hermione didn't look like she had woken up completely, and the witch might hex his ball sacks off if he surprised her at her most vulnerable.

His eyes then unwittingly landed on her exposed shoulder, his oversized sweater slipping down to show her freckled skin. Her black strap was peeking underneath her voluminous hair and James felt his mouth running dry. Admittedly, he'd imagined Hermione wearing some of his clothes after hours of delightful activities. He hadn't really thought about it this morning, since his mind was more preoccupied with the fact that she had almost _died_ doing a stupidly reckless mission. But now, alone with her, James properly realised her state of dress – or lack thereof. There was even a small patch of her creamy thigh peeking out from underneath the comforter.

Merlin Almighty, this bloody witch was already driving him mad.

James forced himself to tear his gaze away from the tempting brunette, grimacing at how tight his trousers suddenly felt. Hermione would once again surely think he was a dirty pervert.

"James?" she breathily asked.

He took a few calming breaths before letting his hazel eyes settle on her once more. Just as long as he stared at her face, James could keep his sanity. Well, _just_.

"Go freshen up and change into err… decent clothes," he said, hastily thrusting the small bag of Hermione's clothes towards her. "I'll wait for you outside."

Hermione suspiciously looked at him but silently accepted the bag. "Okay," she answered.

The bespectacled Auror almost ran out of the room, lest he changed his mind and pinned her down on the bed. Sometimes, James wondered if Hermione truly knew what she was doing to him. He was _never_ a patient boy and the amount of self-control he always had to have every time Hermione was near was impossibly huge.

Hermione took a few minutes to emerge out of her room. James, by then, had calmed himself down and instantly interlaced his fingers with hers as he tugged her towards their dining room.

Their trek was silent, with Hermione occasionally greeting the portraits with a pleasant good morning. James watched, amused, how Linfred doted on Hermione like she was his long-lost friend.

He was quiet all throughout, already content with her walking beside him.

"Are you okay?"

James glanced down at her, surprised at her question. Her blue eyes were dark with worry, her lips tugged into a small frown.

"I'm the one who's supposed to ask that question," he lightly replied, cracking a small smile.

She didn't match his smile. "You've been quiet," she said. "Usually, you'd be chattering my ears off by now."

He snorted, his hold on her hand tightening. "Not really in a chatty mood today, love," he said.

Her eyes grew worried once more as she stepped closer to James. "Is it because—" She nervously nibbled her bottom lip. "Are you mad at me?"

"I don't know," he murmured, eyebrows knitting together at her question. "Should I be?"

Hermione laughed lightly. "I don't know, actually," she said with a sheepish smile. "I thought after all the reckless things I've done in the past few months…" Hermione expelled a soft sigh. "Peter came over a few minutes before I fell asleep and I honestly thought he was going to berate me too."

He was still marvellously confused with everything he'd heard. His mind might not have completely wrapped around all of her revelation yet. "My mind's not yet processed everything, if that's what you're asking," he pointed out with a bemused smile. "Merlin, I think I may need _days_ just to properly understand everything. It's — blimey, you know, the whole thing's bloody absurd."

"Very absurd," she concurred with a soft laugh.

"Just… just don't keep things to yourself anymore, Hermione," he continued. "Dumbledore was right; you're not in this fight alone. We have the same goal and since we already know how to bring the bastard down, we should all work together to achieve that."

Her eyes misted, a forlorn smile slipping onto her face. "I still wish you weren't involved in all of this," she confessed. "It's mighty dangerous. Actively fighting Voldemort's tyranny, that is."

"That's not going to happen, Hermione. You know that," he firmly said as a scowl now appeared on his face. "You've been around us for _years_. You know that we'd never stand aside in this war when we know we can help make this world a better place."

"I know," she said, gingerly brushing a wayward tear that had dripped down from her eyes. "I just — I wanted to protect you, and Peter, and everybody I've grown to care about in this world. I told myself that it was at least consolation for failing to protect my best friend in the end."

James drew to a halt, tugging Hermione into place. He sternly stared into her surprised, blue eyes and proclaimed, "We don't need you to protect us, Hermione. We need you _alive_. So please, for the love of all good and holy things in this world, don't do anything reckless without telling us anymore, all right? At least if you do something dangerous, you'll be with someone that will help you."

Her blue eyes turned bright with warmth and gratitude. "I won't," she promised, reaching forward to place a hand against his cheek. "Not anymore."

She was standing on her tiptoes, her eyes already fluttering closed. James's eyes widened because Hermione never initiated a kiss. For months, he always wondered why she was holding back, putting him at an arm's length, when it had been _obvious_ she was very much in love with him, just as much as he loved her. Everything made sense after her revelation that morning. Perhaps, Hermione had known him in the future, knew every person he'd associated himself with, and what he would become. Time was still a weird thing for him, and he knew from various lessons he'd had in Hogwarts that time travelling way, _way_ back would be disastrous, able to wipe out a whole generation if the traveller wasn't careful.

But the thing was, what he understood was that Hermione's situation wasn't simple at all. With dark magic at play, she was _reborn_ as a completely different person. She was Hermione _Pettigrew_ , for Merlin's sake! She shared the same features with his best friend and had practically grown alongside her throughout their Hogwarts years.

Simply put, she already _belonged_ in this timeline. James hoped, fervently even, that Hermione would understand that and stop holding herself back from living her life in the present.

He sadly grinned at her face and dipped his head, meeting her halfway.

**-ooo-**

That afternoon found Hermione and James in the Drawing Room once more. Sirius and Remus were coming over and Hermione thought it was the right time to tell them her story. Peter still hadn't returned, but had promised to be there with them when Hermione broke the news to the other Marauders.

"This will be what? Your third time telling your tale?" James said, slowly wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer to his side.

"Fourth, actually," she said, a small smile on her face. "Regulus was the first one to know."

James frowned and Hermione snorted, recognising the jealous glint in his eyes. "It was necessary if I wanted him to trust me," she said. "Your jealousy for Regulus is really _weird_. We're just friends."

His hazel eyes narrowed into thin slits behind his spectacles. "Exactly how _long_ have you been conniving with Sirius's brother behind our backs?" he asked.

"Long enough," she vaguely clipped.

A scowl bloomed on James's face. "Well, look at that, maybe I _am_ mad at you after all," he grumbled, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Because I'm working _with Regulus_?" she asked in exasperation. A loud snort escaped from Hermione's lips, her eyebrows meeting at the middle in annoyance. "Why do I feel like you're more annoyed that I'm working with him than the fact that I've hidden the simple fact that I am not from here?"

James made a weird, frustrated noise at the back of his throat. "Because being bloody jealous with the bloke is easier than accepting that my bloody girlfriend is a bloody time traveller – a war heroine, _holy shite_ \- who by the way, almost lost her _bloody fucking life_ last night!"

Hermione gaped at him, eyes widening at his sudden outburst.

The bespectacled wizard's eyes widened too, mirroring her surprise. "Well, look at that, maybe I am mad at you after all," he lamely repeated, this time with resignation heard in his tone of voice. "No. No, _fuck it_. I'm not angry. I'm _terrified_. About everything. Your time travelling, horcruxes. _Voldemort_. How could you keep these all to yourself, Hermione? In that cave, drowning under an Inferi-infested lake, you were— you almost—"

James clammed up and tried to calm himself down. Tears welled in Hermione's eyes, prompting him to look a tad panicky.

"I'm sorry," he whispered after a few gulps of calming breath. He looked marvellously weirded out and wide-eyed, and Hermione, try as she might, didn't know what to do. "That wasn't fair. I… I can't even begin to imagine what you've been through for the past years. The past _seventeen years_ , blimey! Your situation is bloody fucked up and I know you're terrified of what we're going to think about you now that we… know. It's just—" He made a face and looked away from her swimming eyes. "I really need some time to think. About everything. My head's going to burst soon from everything you've unloaded on us yesterday." James snorted, his cheeks colouring in embarrassment. "I thought I was mighty composed when I fetched you for lunch a while ago. Apparently not."

"I was expecting an outburst, you know," Hermione whispered, hastily wiping her tears away. "I thought it was weird how you – and Peter – accepted everything in a stride. If I were you, I'd be really mad and brimming with a lot of questions now."

"Good thing I'm not like you then, eh, Whiskers?" he quipped, the corner of his mouth lifting into a small, teasing smirk. "And, I think Wormy and I were too distracted by the fact that you've been doing dangerous shenanigans behind our backs for a while now than to properly digest your whole revelation."

"I'm sorry," she tearfully said, reaching out to touch his cheek.

James's eyes fluttered close and leaned against her touch. "I'm really tempted to forbid you to stop doing whatever you're doing with Black, but I'm sure you'd throw your Bat-Bogey Hex before I even finish my sentence," he said.

"You know me too well," she said with a watery chuckle.

"You're unstoppable, Hermione Pettigrew," he said with a sigh, shifting forward to place a hand at the back of her head. "The least I can do is stay by your side."

A lovely smile appeared on her face as a few tears escaped from her eyes. James gently brushed her tears away and leant forward, pressing his lips against hers.

"Please, _Merlin's saggy bum_ , stop being so gross."

The couple flinched apart, eyes latching on the newcomer. Peter stood right in front of the door, his face twisted with mild disgust.

Hermione ignored his comment and stood up from the couch. Her older brother's disgust melted into relief as Hermione threw her arms around him.

"Are you okay, Hermione?" he worriedly asked.

"I'm fine," she said, chuckling softly when he protectively tightened his arms around her.

A set of footsteps padded outside the room. The door burst open and in came Sirius and Remus, both looking very tired and downright worried. Hermione snorted at Sirius, who was wearing the leather jacket she'd given him as his graduation gift. He looked well and maybe more bulked up after months and months of rigorous training as an Auror.

Her eyes were drawn to Remus, though. Despite his scarred face, he looked marvellously healthy, like he'd been sleeping quite well and eating on time. This was the most human Hermione had ever seen him, never mind the dark bags under his eyes from lack of sleep due to his Order mission.

"Missed us, Whiskers?" Sirius cheekily asked, shrinking the distance between them and throwing his arms around both Hermione and Peter.

"Geroff, Pads," Peter sourly said.

Remus smiled gently at Hermione and approached her too. "Is everything all right?" he asked, blearily rubbing his sleepy eyes as he worriedly glanced at Hermione, and then at James.

"I take it the Wolfsbane Potion was a success?" she asked, ignoring his question.

The smile that broke out on Remus's face outshone whatever scars he was wearing. "It was the best months of my life, Hermione," he declared. "The potion was _brilliant_. I told Damocles I'd work for him after he marketed the potion because, you know, he promised to supply me with free Wolfsbane Potion until his dying breath. But he refused, said I should start living my life instead of hanging out with him." His cheeks coloured as a disbelieving laugh escaped from his lips. "I'm due for an interview with Dumbledore for the Defence Against the Dark Arts position soon. Pity I won't be able to teach you for your last few months at Hogwarts. And — _blimey_ , I wasn't meaning to tell you everything yet because I thought this wasn't the right time to say it."

"No, it's fine," Hermione said, reaching forward to grasp onto Remus's hand. "I'm glad you said it, Remus."

His golden eyes softened as they swept over and noticed James's sombre mood. "Is everything all right?" he insisted once more, now growing worried.

"Yeah," Sirius said, completely pulling away from the Pettigrew siblings to frown at them. "Wormy's cryptic message through the bewitched knut sounded urgent. I was about to _sleep_ , because you know, I haven't had a wink since Moody's mission. So, this better be good."

"Something came up," James vaguely started. "Something huge."

Remus frowned and plopped down on the couch across from James. "A little elaboration could help."

Hermione nervously glanced at the other Marauders, unsure how they would take her story. She completely pulled away from her brother and sat down beside James once more, wordlessly urging Sirius to take a seat too. "Well—"

"Wait," Peter suddenly said. "Not yet. We're still waiting for two more people."

The brunette knitted her eyebrows in confusion. "Really?" she asked.

"I… well… I thought you'd want them to know about it too," he said, sheepishly meeting her gaze. "You've been telling this story _a lot_ already, so I thought you'd rather this be the last time you needed to recount your past. I figured you'd want them to know because they're your best friends."

"No," James gasped, eyes growing wide.

Hermione shot up from her seat when a new set of footsteps from outside approached the drawing room. Her eyes unknowingly watered when Lily strode inside, closely followed by a cautious Sev. Lily was wearing the standard grey robe of an Unspeakable donned over Muggle clothes. Her hair was held over her head in a messy bun, and Hermione noted that, like Remus, she also had deep bags under her eyes.

Severus, to her surprise, was wearing his older counterpart's signature billowing black robes. He mirrored Lily's tired expression, most likely swamped with his Potions Apprenticeship work.

Hermione quickly barrelled towards her best friends and threw her arms over them. It was silly how she started to cry, but after everything she'd been through, she was just happy she was still alive to see them.

"What's going on?" Lily softly asked, placing a comforting hand on Hermione's back to soothe her tears.

"Is it really necessary to ask them to come?" Sirius mumbled, already throwing daggers at Sev.

"Judging from Hermione's reaction, it is," Peter said with a sigh.

The younger witch sniffed and laughingly wiped her tears away. "I'm sorry," she started. "I haven't seen you both in a while."

"What's wrong?" Sev asked, frowning at the tears in her eyes. Hermione smiled at him upon noting the worry in his dark eyes.

"Come sit down," Hermione sighed, fully pulling herself away from her friends. "You will need it."

Lily and Sev exchanged worried glances, obviously concerned with the sudden tension that had blanketed the room. Hermione pulled them both to the only vacant couch in the room, right across from the blazing hearth. She sat them down and resumed her position sandwiched between James and Peter.

Hermione took a deep breath to organise her thoughts and then, with a sad smile, she started, "I have something to tell you."

**-ooo-**

Her throat was dry and her jaw felt painful from constantly talking without any interruptions. Hermione marvelled at how Lily kept silent whilst she told her tale, her face steadily draining with colour until she was as pale as a ghost by the time Hermione was done. Severus looked deeply disturbed, his lips twisted into a small frown as he mulled over her story. Remus looked very exhausted, his scars and deep bags under his golden eyes stark against his pale face.

Sirius… Sirius was pacing, _incessantly_. His dragonhide boots were already leaving a mark on the rich carpet in the drawing room. His face looked thunderous, his lips drawn into a taut line. Beside her, she'd seen how James and Peter had exchanged a worried look for the shaggy-haired Auror.

Hermione distractedly tore her gaze away from Sirius and glanced at the other three. She didn't dare break the silence, knowing that she had to give them some time to process everything she'd said.

Remus was the first one to move, taking in a deep breath and glancing at Hermione. "Is it all—" He paused and swallowed, silent once more.

A vein popped on Sev's forehead. "Why did you—" Like Remus, words failed her best friend.

Sirius suddenly drew to a halt and pierced her with his tumultuous grey eyes. "Are you _fucking_ —"

Whatever he was going to ask was drowned out by Lily's loud sobs. The redhead's eyes were swimming with tears as she bolted right off the couch and into Hermione's awaiting arms. The witch fell on her knees and laid her head on Hermione's lap, winding her arms around her midsection. "You poor, _poor_ thing," Lily cried. "Y-you must have been really scared."

Hermione was stunned at Lily's words, admittedly not expecting them to come out of anyone who'd heard her tale. The others had been too dumbstruck with her past and had started asking various questions just to make sense of it all.

But Lily… _Lily_ had thought of her first.

Her heart swelled with affection for this lovely witch, her gleaming emerald eyes staring at Hermione with so much sorrow and worry. Tears poured out of Hermione's eyes as she released a sob, pressing her face against Lily's messy hair. "I-I was," she confessed. "I was so scared and alone and I thought—"

Severus was then off the couch too and silently, determinedly, gathered the two crying witches into his arms and held them tight. Hermione didn't need to hear Sev speak, because she could see how his dark eyes glistened, although no tears fell.

The trio held each other for minutes. Hermione didn't know for how long. It was only when Lily's tears had subsided that Sev gently pulled her away. Lily refused to return to her seat, opting to sit down beside Hermione's and to steadfastly place a hand on her knee.

Hermione smiled fondly down at the determined redhead, thanking all the blessed stars above that Lily had chosen to barge into her compartment back in first year, insisting on sitting with her.

Sev settled down on the couch, the peaks of his cheeks slightly red. Hermione hazarded a guess that he was a tad flustered at showing a bit of emotion in the presence of the Marauders – people he swore he'd never show any shred of vulnerability to.

But the other four didn't even notice Sev. James's hand was tight around Hermione's, his fingers comfortingly drawing a pattern on the back of her hand. Peter's blue eyes had also filled with tears, his gaze worried and sad.

"You don't plan—" Hermione glanced at Remus, who suddenly looked deeply concerned. "You don't plan on going back, do you? To your… to your own timeline."

Everybody in the room stilled. No one had asked her that question yet. It was only Regulus who'd had the nerve to ask her before, and Hermione had wondered since last night when they would ask her too. Perhaps, they were too scared of what she'd say. James's painful hold on her hand already spoke volumes.

With a watery smile, Hermione brushed her fingertips over James's hands until his grip loosened. He looked panicked, waiting with bated breath for her answer.

"No," she said, prompting everybody to breathe a little better. A tear slid down from Peter's face when he shakily gripped her arm. "No, I don't plan on going back. It's…" She laughed and brushed a few of her wayward tears away. "The potion I took didn't offer any antidote. It was brewed with _dark magic_ after all, and you know that almost always, the effects are irreversible."

Lily loudly sniffed and tilted her head. "I've only been an Unspeakable for a few months, Hermione," she softly said. "But I can already say that there are a lot of mysterious things here in this world. If… if you gave me the complete list of ingredients of this dubious potion, and the instructions, I could—"

"Thank you, Lils, but that won't be necessary," Hermione said, fondly brushing Lily's hair away.

The redhead's eyes filled with tears once again. "Are you sure?" she tentatively asked.

"I took that potion to run away from everything," she said, her gaze sweeping over each and every person in the room. "Why would I want to go back?"

"Because it was your home."

Hermione's gaze quickly landed on James, who was refusing to look at her.

"No."

She watched as he slowly knitted his eyebrows together.

"This is _home_ ," she grounded out. "With Mum and Peter and all of my friends and… and _you_."

He glanced at her, surprised.

" _I_ am Hermione Pettigrew," she declared earnestly. "Hermione Granger was a Muggleborn Gryffindor, with dark, bushy hair and deep, brown eyes. And… and I know she'll always be a part of me. But I am not her. Not anymore."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So um yes, so many feels hahaha. I haven't seen my love for 5 months already because of the pandemic and I miss him so much hahaha. I think my emotions just poured over this chapter huhu I'm so sorry.
> 
> And, holy schnaps I'm starting to really panic with all of your theories hahaha. I'm nervous y'all get disappointed with the decisions I've made for this story (I mean, granted I kinda love it, but of course I'm biased hahaha).
> 
> Part 3 of "Hermione's Revelation Arc" will be posted tomorrow.
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes). Expect to start seeing a lot of 'Trollhunters' posts because I've recently discovered it on Netflix and I've been binge-watching it for the whole day. I really love it so much ahahah.


	39. chapter thirty-eight

* * *

**xxxviii.**

_**became the heirloom of the heaviness we've known** _

(Heirloom by Sleeping at Last)

* * *

**January 4, 1979**

After her exhausting revelation to the rest of her friends, Dumbledore sent an Owl through Fleamont stating that he'd drop by Potter Manor once more to further discuss things regarding their current predicament. Hermione insisted that Lily and Sev stay for Dumbledore's visit, and although they had both looked terribly uncomfortable, her best friends conceded.

Conversations in the Drawing Room became light and cordial, with James and Peter chatting with Lily about how her Unspeakable duties had been. Severus and Remus were, surprisingly, discussing their future plans of becoming professors at Hogwarts, with Remus constantly asking Sev questions about how the interview would go, since Sev had already gone through his. Granted, Sev looked terribly, _terribly_ uncomfortable, speaking one-worded replies to the inquisitive werewolf, but Remus didn't seem to mind. Or if he did, he chose to ignore it.

It was a really weird sight, seeing her best friends interacting with the Marauders. Hermione met Sev's eyes from across the room, and he quirked an eyebrow at her ridiculous grin. She was the most worried for Sev, since he still deeply disliked the others, but it warmed her heart at how he was trying to still be civil.

Sirius, however, was worrisome. The grey-eyed wizard had been sitting in front of the fire, cross-legged, and brooding. His friends tried to get him to talk, but Sirius constantly pushed them away.

Hermione knew the revelation that his little brother had been helping her with the horcrux hunt had disoriented him completely. At Hogwarts, Sirius had talked about Regulus like he was ashamed of him.

' _Not ashamed,'_ she mentally corrected. _'Disappointed.'_

Sirius was disappointed that Regulus had continued being the perfect Pureblood their parents wished him to become, associating himself with the smarmiest bastards at school, and upholding ideologies that were incongruent with his.

Peter and James told her how they'd recently suspected that Regulus was already a Death Eater. Hermione wondered how Sirius felt about that.

Pokey soon came a few hours after, declaring that dinner was ready for Master James and his friends.

"Sirius," Hermione called, sauntering towards the silent wizard. She gently touched his shoulder to get his attention.

The wizard tensed instantly, but his back was still facing her.

"It's time for dinner," she said.

"I'm not hungry," he bit back dully.

Hermione frowned. "You need to eat," she insisted. "Dumbledore's coming soon."

"Bugger off, Hermione," he murmured.

"But—"

Her words died down when James held her hand and gently pulled her away from the overwrought wizard. "Leave him be for now, love," he whispered, ushering her out of the Drawing Room behind the others. "Sirius always gets like this if something comes up with his brother."

Hermione sadly glanced over her shoulder to look at Sirius. "Will he be all right?" she asked.

"Just give him some time. The fact that his brother's been helping you gather horcruxes for Voldemort's downfall has rattled him immensely."

The brunette sighed and reluctantly nodded, knowing she wouldn't be able to do anything about it anyway.

**-ooo-**

Regulus's eyes fluttered open as soon as she touched his cheek.

Hermione exclaimed a relieved laugh and leant towards the disoriented Slytherin, wrapping her arms tightly around him with utmost relief. She thought she had cried herself dry over the past two days, but apparently, she was wrong. Tears still welled in her eyes and she was infinitely relieved that Regulus had finally awoken.

"Pe-Pettigrew?" he croaked, throat dry from disuse.

The brunette sheepishly smiled and pulled away from him. Regulus's grey eyes narrowed in confusion, his gaze scanning James's bedroom.

"Where are we?" he asked. He paused, smacked his lips, and frowned. "Water, please."

Hermione hastily nodded her head and poured him a glass of water, which was sitting on the bedside table.

"Where are we?" he asked once more, as he gratefully accepted the glass of water and downed it in big gulps.

"Potter Manor."

Regulus suddenly choked on his water, loud coughs forcefully escaping from his lips. Hermione's eyes widened at his response and quickly leant over, thumping his back until his coughing fit had stopped.

"W-what?"

"Potter Manor," she repeated more deliberately, snatching the glass cup from his hand as his fingers tightened around it.

Regulus glanced around the unfamiliar room with unfiltered panic on his face. " _Why_ are we here?" he hissed, his voice now an octave lower as he nervously threw a glance at the closed door.

"You don't remember what happened." She stated it more matter-of-factly than questioningly, his wild eyes already telling her what was going through his head.

"No," he punctuated. "The last thing I remember was _you_ hitting me with the Body-Binding Jinx. What the hell was that, Pettigrew?"

"You were begging to drink water," she hotly defended herself. "One of the dark liquid's consequences was to make you unbearably thirsty, and Voldemort cursed the cave so that no one could produce water. Clever trick, that bastard."

His fingers started massaging his temples. "Then what happened?" he asked.

Hermione's heart clenched once more as the events of yesterday came back to her. She refused to meet Regulus's gaze, her eyes trained intently on James's burgundy comforter. "You managed to break from the Body-Binding Jinx," she slowly explained. "I think the potion's effects were too great to ignore, so despite your weakened state, you were able to break from the spell. And – and there's a reason why there's a small lake infested with Inferi surrounding the basin which holds the horcrux."

Regulus took a sharp intake of breath. "So that whoever drinks the potion will be tempted to drink water from the lake, subsequently awakening the Inferi," he murmured.

Tense silence met his claim as Hermione remembered how Regulus was yanked into the dark water.

"Then… then why am I still alive?"

Her watery eyes snapped towards him. Regulus's face was as pale as the crescent moon outside, raw fear in his silver eyes. There was confusion too, as he most undoubtedly knew how persistent and indestructible Inferi were.

"Because I made sure of it," she whispered, lifting her fingers to brush away her tears. " _Because_ , I cannot let you die in that cave _again_ , without the world discovering you were the first person who dared defy Voldemort's ideologies, in the hope of bringing him down."

Regulus looked almost dead with his pale face. "Again?" he breathlessly asked. "You mean to say—" Hermione's eyes widened, realizing her slip, but it was already too late.

"Yes," she reluctantly admitted.

His face crumpled. "I-I remember being pulled into the water," he sputtered out, wide-eyed and panicking. "I shouldn't be here."

"And yet, here you are," she said with a hollow laugh. "Do you honestly think I'd leave you behind, Regulus Black?

If I had to dive inside that Inferi-infested black lake again just to save your bloody life, then I'd gladly do it."

His jaw dropped. "You… y-you _fucking_ did what?" He looked honest-to-Merlin horrified and disbelieving at the same time, and despite of all the horrible memories of that cave, Hermione managed to laugh in relief.

"Well, technically, an Inferius pulled me inside but I made sure I found you first before I swam back the surface," she stated matter-of-factly. "I did say I was a reckless Gryffindor in my past life. _Honestly_ , Regulus. I don't know why you're even surprised."

"You could have _died_ , Pettigrew."

The smile fell on her face, the weight of his words heavy on her shoulders. She knew she had been on the brink of death too - hopelessness consuming her whole, as the Inferi continued to stack up on each other, to pull every part of her body, refusing to let her resurface and return to that cold, stone island.

If it weren't for Peter _and_ Kreacher… _Merlin_ , Hermione thought it had been sheer luck, now that she properly pondered on it. If Peter hadn't borrowed parchment from her, if Peter hadn't snooped around her messy desk, if Peter hadn't insisted on coming, then perhaps both her and Regulus wouldn't be here right now.

"But I'm not," she whispered. "I'm still very much alive. And so are you."

Regulus snorted in disbelief, his grey eyes once more scanning the lavish room. "How long have I been unconscious?" he asked.

"Almost the whole day," she said. When his eyes widened, she quickly added, "Better than a week, which it would have been, had you not been tended to immediately. James was able to give you a potion that slowed down the effects of the dark potion. Madame Pomfrey and Mary treated you while you were asleep. They reassured us that there won't be any huge side effects, besides exhaustion. I'd rather you sleep for a few more hours, but I actually checked on you right now to see if you'd awoken."

His eyebrows knitted together as he tested his limbs. "Despite being sore and tired, I think I'm fine," he said. His eyes widened again in panic. " _Shite_ , my parents! They might be wondering where I am right now."

"It's all right," Hermione assured. "Before we brought you here, we instructed Kreacher to ward your room and refuse any visitors as much as he could. He hasn't sent us any letter or anything about whether your parents were suspicious or not."

He marginally calmed down and nodded his head. "I should go home now before they start to get suspicious," he said, swinging his legs onto the edge of the bed.

"Wait."

Regulus paused and looked at a nervous Hermione.

"I wanted to check you were up, so you could attend the meeting," she explained.

"Meeting?"

Her face crumpled, beseeching. "You have to understand that I had no choice," she said. "You were dying and Peter had so many questions. Then, James and Peter agreed that Dumbledore must get involved so—"

"Dumbledore?!" he thundered. Hermione clammed up and refused to meet his eyes. "What did you _do_ , Pettigrew?"

Hermione sighed and ran a tired hand down her face. "I told them everything," she murmured. "Hermione Granger, the Second Wizarding War, our horcrux hunt and…" She trailed off as her hand gingerly wrapped around his left forearm where his Dark Mark was, hidden underneath the white sweater James had lent him.

Regulus took another sharp intake of breath, releasing expletives soon after. "You told them about my— my—"

"I had no choice. I'm so sorry," she sincerely replied. "They hazarded, anyway. They already highly suspected you as Branded and after I told them about my tale, they inevitably landed on that conclusion." She thickly swallowed, her hold on his arm tightening. "If it helps, I don't think they plan to send you to Azkaban."

A wry laugh tore away from his lips. "Thanks for the reassurance, Pettigrew," he snarled.

"I'm serious," she said, pinning him with a stare. "They know you've been helping me in this horcrux hunt for _months_. I think the fact you almost died retrieving Slytherin's locket, has also made them conclude that you're not a blind follower of Voldemort."

" _You_ had no right," he snarled.

"I know," she whispered. "I'm really sorry."

Hermione frowned when Regulus schooled all of his emotions behind his indifferent mask. "Please, stop doing _that_ ," she said with a tired sigh.

He coolly looked at her. "What do you mean?" he drawled.

"Hide your emotions behind your stupid mask," she pointed out. "It's all right to show your emotions, Regulus. No one's going to use them against you."

His lips curled into a sneer. "You haven't lived with Pureblood bigots for years, Pettigrew," he snapped. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Hermione slumped forward and peered at him through sad eyes. "I know you're scared," she whispered slowly. "I mean, I would be if I'd just found out that one of my deepest, darkest secrets had been discovered. If you think they will condemn you for making a wrong decision in your difficult life, then _Merlin_ I'll stand by your side. I will attest all the good deeds you've been doing behind their backs. Just… just don't do that. Hide behind your mask. It's not healthy. Let people know how you truly feel, Regulus. Only then will they understand all the decisions you've made in your life."

She had stunned him into silence. Regulus was staring at her with his wide, mercurial eyes, his jaw slightly hanging open at her words.

"I told you you're not alone in this fight," she added. "These people… I love them dearly and I know they're not exactly an easy bunch to be with. But we have the same cause and at times of war, we need all the help we can get."

Regulus took a deep, ragged breath as his mask slowly crumbled down. Hermione was overwhelmed by the magnitude of his emotions, which flittered briefly on his face. She wasn't sure how he truly felt right there and then, but she saw snippets of deep fear and shame, of sadness and loneliness, of determination and uncertainty.

She gave him a watery smile, tightly holding onto his shaking hand. "That's better," she said as a tear slipped down from her eyes. "You can be yourself around here, Regulus."

He shifted his gaze away from Hermione and her smile turned sad, noting how he was trying his best to hold in his tears.

"Dumbledore wanted you to join the meeting," she gently added. "I'll wait for you outside once you're ready."

Regulus didn't give her a reply. Hermione squeezed his hand for the last time before completely pulling away.

Before she walked out of the bedroom, Regulus called for her.

She looked at him questioningly, noting how unnaturally glassy his grey eyes were. What got her attention however was the wide smile on his face. The smile was earnest and relieved at the same time, and Hermione's eyes filled with tears once more as lone tear tumbled down from his grey eyes.

"Thank you, Hermione," he whispered inside the dark room.

She matched his smile, noting how he'd opted to use her first name.

"Of course, Regulus."

**-ooo-**

He emerged out of the bedroom a few minutes later. Regulus still looked exhausted from their skirmish at the Cave, but Hermione was relieved he could already walk without any assistance. He looked better now too, any traces of his tears dried and gone.

He shyly met Hermione's eyes, the peaks of his cheeks colouring in embarrassment, but Hermione merely smiled and ushered him to follow her.

Regulus stiffly walked beside her, obviously tense at being in a manor he once thought he'd never set foot into. He looked quite out-of-place in a house filled with red and gold. James's clothes also looked ridiculously loose on his lanky frame; Regulus had lost a lot of weight since the start of the school-year. Hermione made a mental note to urge him to eat more, especially now they were going to be deeply involved in this war against Voldemort.

He was silent throughout the journey. Hermione didn't bother conversing with him, her head already a little fuzzy from everything that had happened over the past few days. Despite managing to sleep until noon, Hermione still felt a certain tiredness that even reached her very soul. She wondered if mere sleeping would soothe her tiredness away.

They finally reached the Drawing Room. Regulus tensed once more, upon hearing the soft murmurs of conversation inside. He unknowingly stepped closer to Hermione, breaching her own personal space. Normally, she'd be annoyed by this, but Regulus looked like he needed as much comfort as he could get. If being close to Hermione provided that, then she really had no choice but to let him.

She grasped onto the doorknob and pushed the door open. Alastor Moody was with Dumbledore again, but this time, they were accompanied by a handsome, dark-skinned man adorned in the official burgundy robes of an Auror. She instantly recognised Kingsley Shacklebolt, a Ravenclaw, who was a year older than the Marauders. She knew he'd become an Auror before her brother. Hermione had never really interacted with him back at Hogwarts; _Merlin_ , she's never really interacted with a lot of her Ravenclaw Housemates, always swept away by her obnoxious Gryffindor friends in various adventures.

"Hermione Pettigrew," he greeted, flashing her a complete set of pearly white teeth. "Brightest witch of her age."

She blushed at the compliment and wordlessly replied with a smile of her own. Her eyes then settled on Dumbledore as she walked a few steps inside. "I've brought Regulus, Headmaster," she quietly said. "He's already well."

The silence was palpable as she stepped aside and ushered the Slytherin to come in. Regulus mechanically took a few steps inside, his eyes trained intently on the rich carpeted floor.

Hermione could see how Sirius grew pale at Regulus's appearance. Her eyes briefly landed on Peter, worried, but her brother merely gave her a reassuring smile.

"Ah, Mister Black," Dumbledore amiably said. "Charming of you to finally join us today."

The wizened wizard was the only one unaffected by the tension in the room. Dumbledore shifted on the couch he was sitting on, flanked by Moody and Kingsley on each side.

"Come on," she murmured under her breath, tugging Regulus inside.

Hermione's eyes scanned around the room, trying to see where she could sit Regulus down. The only vacant seats in the room were besides James and Sirius. Hermione met her boyfriend's eyes and wordlessly told him to sit beside Sirius instead. The Potter heir's lips curled in dismay, prompting Hermione to roll her eyes.

Finally, James relented and stood up from his seat, occupying the vacant space beside his silent best friend.

She then sat Regulus down on the couch and plopped down beside him, her eyes instantly focusing on the leader of the Order. Dumbledore's eyes were already trained on Regulus, but the Slytherin kept his eyes on his lap.

"The horcruxes, Miss Pettigrew," Dumbledore then said, snapping his eyes away from Regulus to look at her. "I'm afraid you have to surrender them now. Auror Shacklebolt will keep them locked up in a safe place until we've killed the Basilisk."

"They're in my trunk back home," Hermione replied. She glanced at Peter and smiled. "Maybe my brother can turn them over tomorrow."

Peter nodded his head in agreement.

"Very well," the Headmaster replied. "Again, we plan to kill the Basilisk once summer starts." He shifted on his seat and glanced at the moody Auror beside him. "Have you talked with the Prewetts, Alastor?"

"Yes," Mad-Eye Moody gruffly replied. "They've enlisted the help of Benjy Fenwick from the Magical Creatures Department – they are ready to go once you give them the signal, Dumbledore."

The old wizard nodded his head then pinned Hermione and Regulus with a stern stare. "As for you two," he started, "I'm afraid your horcrux hunt is at an end, for now."

Regulus wore a small scowl while Hermione bristled in protest. "But Professor, we've come this far," she insisted. "There is only one horcrux left, which is the Gaunt ring."

"I understand your desire to gather them all, Hermione," he gravely started, "but both of you are still students under my care. From what I've deduced from your stories, procuring them will be dangerous." He raised a hand when Hermione opened her mouth once more, halting her from her tirade. "I do not doubt both of your skills. In fact, it is admirable how you managed to successfully gather the initial four. But after how both of you almost lost your lives in that cave, I cannot take any more chances. Like I said, I am still a Headmaster and I greatly care for the education of my students. And as your Headmaster, I forbid you from pursuing the horcrux while still under the care of Hogwarts."

Hermione curled her hands into fists and glared darkly at her knees. She truly understood the concerns Dumbledore had, but this horcrux hunt was _her_ idea. She wanted to steal the ring and see it with her very own eyes, to put her heart at ease.

"Then perhaps, once we've graduated, we can continue with the hunt."

The brunette glanced at Regulus, mildly surprised he had talked. His grey eyes were resolute, his lips formed into a thin line.

The corner of Dumbledore's lips twitched into a small smile. "Oh, by all means," he gladly said. "This was your idea, after all. It will be terribly disappointing for you both if you don't finish it yourselves."

Hermione looked at the Headmaster with wide eyes. She honestly thought they'd be banned from getting the horcrux themselves.

"With all due respect, Headmaster Dumbledore, sir," Lily piped in. "But I don't think that is… err… _safe_."

"Oh, of course, not safe at all," he said, nodding his said while a serene smile appeared on his face. Dumbledore looked like he was talking about the weather or afternoon tea with his group of friends.

"They almost died last night," Severus drawled with a deep scowl. "I don't think it is wise of you to give them the mission of retrieving the last horcrux."

"They will not do this alone, if that is what you are worried about, Severus," the older wizard coolly said.

Hermione slowly nodded her head. "Just as long as Regulus and I will be there to retrieve the horcrux, then we will follow your orders, Professor Dumbledore," she said. The Slytherin beside her earnestly nodded his head, prompting her to smile.

The others looked like they were about to protest once more, but Dumbledore raised a hand, his eyes still intently trained on Hermione. "I must admit that despite my long life, I still do not know how horcruxes really work," he continued. "But I believe it is safe if we do not collectively destroy them all at once."

"That makes sense," the brunette murmured in reply. "I'm not really sure how horcruxes work either, but since they still house a piece of a soul, destroying them may be felt by their master."

"We've come across a few horcruxes in the past," Kingsley Shacklebolt added. "There were several reports which stated that the creator of a horcrux feels a very mild stinging burn internally every time one is destroyed. Often overlooked, I'm assuming. So, destroying one may be hardly felt, but if we destroyed them all together, we may alarm the maker."

Dumbledore gravely nodded his head. "I've talked with Alastor and some of my knowledgeable friends, and it seems that is the case," he said. "We will gather the basilisk venom and it is best if we do not destroy all five horcruxes immediately, nor all together."

Hermione nodded her head, agreeing with him completely. It was better to be safe than alert Voldemort to the fact they had discovered his weakness.

"Now, the last thing I'd like to discuss before we leave." Dumbledore's blue eyes landed squarely on Regulus, the usual twinkle in them curiously absent. "You are quite in a predicament, Regulus."

His cheeks reddened at being addressed.

"But, I propose a task, if you do not mind."

The Black heir narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Hermione noted how his carefully crafted mask was back in place, reining in whatever emotion he was feeling right now. She sighed at his guardedness, but then again, she knew he wouldn't let others know how he felt, especially if he was not well acquainted with them.

"I would like to formally invite you to join the Order of the Phoenix," Dumbledore continued. "But such appointment comes with a difficult task. You are, after all, pledged to another – a madman, if I may be so bold as to call him - and I'd rather you did not blindly let yourself be recruited into the Order by another madman."

"What difficult task?" Regulus deliberately asked, quirking an eyebrow at how casually Dumbledore had insulted himself.

Dumbledore's eyes turned steely, his lips pursing into a tight line. "As you are the only one who's currently affiliated with Voldemort, your knowledge about his missions, his future plans, will be of great help to the Order," he continued. "Otherwise, I'm afraid I'd have to _Obliviate_ you to forget everything we've been working so hard to achieve these past few years."

The Headmaster's stare was unforgiving and Hermione knew Regulus had no choice but to choose. She wanted to say it was unfair, but she understood Dumbledore's logic. _Still_ , her heart clenched at the thought that perhaps Regulus might change his mind because of Dumbledore's condition.

"I want Voldemort _dead_ ," Regulus harshly cried. "What more do I have to prove?"

"You do not need to prove anything anymore, young Regulus," Dumbledore said, his blue eyes softening. "It is a terrible thing to not have a choice. I'm sure _you_ know that."

Regulus turned splotchy red, his glaring eyes landing on his lap again.

"Which is why I am giving you a choice," the old wizard continued. "No one in this room will judge you if you pick the easier way out." Dumbledore suddenly looked wearier, a dark shadow cast over his face. "One responsibility is already enough."

"I'll do it," the Slytherin said without any hesitation. "I will tell you his plans. I will tell you _everything_. If it means this will help bring Voldemort down, then I'll gladly do it."

"Regulus," Hermione softly quipped. "This isn't the same as the horcrux hunt." She grew worried at the implications of such a heavy task.

"Surely, you do not mean as to make him a spy for the Order, Dumbledore," Moody replied with a deep frown. "I do not think a boy his age and skill would be able to handle it."

"That is what I mean entirely," the Headmaster replied.

"With all due respect," Kingsley added, "he is but a boy. He is not trained for this, Dumbledore."

"Which is why I will train him myself," he coolly replied. Regulus's eyes widened in shock. "We can work out a schedule to enhance your Occlumency skills and maybe brush up your Defence Against the Dark Arts spells. Sound good, Mister Black?"

Regulus blinked his wide eyes. "O-of course," he stuttered. He cleared his throat and sat up straighter. "That won't be a problem."

"Ah, but of course I have to make sure it doesn't clash with Miss Pettigrew's colour-coded schedule." Hermione's cheeks reddened in embarrassment when Dumbledore's eyes glinted in amusement. "They are quite famous, I believe."

Regulus snorted, much to her annoyance. She hit him with the pointy end of her elbow and lightly glared.

Dumbledore was about to add another thing, but Sirius suddenly shot up from his seat and stormed out of the Drawing Room. Hermione's wide eyes lingered on the door he'd just closed with a loud bang, before glancing back at Regulus.

The Black heir's expression was indecipherable, his eyes still trained intently on the closed door.

"I think somebody needs to check up on Sirius," the old wizard quipped.

James was instantly on his feet, about to follow his best friend, but Regulus cleared his throat and pierced him with a firm stare. "I'll do it," he said.

The bespectacled Auror faltered, uncertain. James knitted his eyebrows together in deep contemplation, before finally nodding his head and sitting back down.

Regulus stood up from the couch, murmured his goodbye, and walked out of the Drawing Room.

"Well then," Dumbledore said, clasping his hands together and climbing onto his feet. "I'm afraid I have to leave now. Gentlemen?" He glanced at Moody and Kingsley, who both nodded their heads in agreement.

The Headmaster looked at Hermione, a warning glint in his eyes. "Please focus on your NEWTs and Head Girl duties for now, Miss Pettigrew," he said. "There are those who are already working their hardest to bring Voldemort down. It would be best if we are all patient and do not act recklessly, so as not to endanger our own life nor the lives of others."

"Yes, sir," she grumbled, blushing at her feet.

Dumbledore gave her an indulgent smile. "See you next term," was his goodbye, before he disappeared in a flash of emerald green, followed by Kingsley and Moody.

**-ooo-**

Regulus wrinkled his nose in dismay, noting how vast the Potter Manor was. It had been a split-second decision to follow Sirius, and it had felt right at the time. Now, however, the young Slytherin wasn't quite so sure.

He wandered throughout the different corridors, lips curling in disgust at how stupidly Gryffindor the whole Manor was. Potters had been Gryffindors for ages, so of course they'd decorate their house with such colours.

He peeked into one room, frowning upon seeing that Sirius was still nowhere in sight. His body was already aching from too much exertion and Regulus just wanted to rest. He debated whether he should stop searching for Sirius and just let his bloody friends comfort him.

Regulus wasn't even sure why his older brother had stormed out of the Drawing Room. He'd been resolutely refusing to look at him, his eyes solely trained on either Dumbledore, the older Aurors or Hermione. Regulus hadn't wanted to see the judgmental faces of the former Gryffindors. Severus was a fellow Slytherin, but he'd been in love with Lily Evans for years. He wasn't an ally either.

"Are you lost, lad?"

His eyes landed on an imposing portrait of a man with the infamous Potter hair, surrounded by potted plants of various species. Regulus warily eyed a Fanged Germanium biting on one of his sleeves, but the man seemed oblivious to such an assault.

"Pardon me," he politely started, "but maybe you've seen Sirius Black?"

"Ah, Sirius Black," the man said with an exasperated sigh. "Quite a rowdy boy, don't you think?" He paused and leaned closer, his nose almost touching the easel of his painting. "Now that I think about, you look exactly like him except the—"

"—nose, yes I know," Regulus replied, his finger tapping against the tip of his nose. "I get that a lot." When the portrait still looked at him suspiciously, Regulus sighed. "I'm his younger brother."

The portrait snorted and absentmindedly pulled the Fanged Germanium from his handsome, burgundy robe. "That's not possible," he said with a scoff. "You're too polite to be related to him."

In spite of himself, Regulus smirked. "I get that a lot too," he said.

The old wizard eyed him for a few more seconds before pointing a finger towards the left. "I saw him slip out of the Manor," he said. "I may or may not be exaggerating a bit, but I think your brother looks thunderous. Perhaps, you should leave him alone for now?"

"Thank you," he said, ignoring the man's advice as he turned around and stepped into a huge foyer. Regulus admittedly stared for a bit, noting the various statues from different cultures decorating the elegant, huge hall. Despite the hugeness of the whole Manor, it exuded a certain beauty and warmth that Grimmauld Place could never achieve.

His heart clenched and Regulus purposively pulled the imposing doors open, refusing to compare this place - that was undoubtedly a home – to the _cold cold cold_ Grimmauld Place. Frosty, biting wind greeted his cheeks and he involuntarily shivered. Snow still blanketed the grounds of the Manor and Regulus noted with dismay how inappropriately dressed he was.

After muttering a quick Warming Charm, his grey eyes scanned the grounds once more in search of any tell-tale signs of his brother.

Something peculiar reached his nose and he took a mighty sniff. He wrinkled his nose in disgust, recognising where the smell had come from. Regulus scanned the grounds againand spied a puff of smoke somewhere on the west side of the Manor.

His boots scrunched noisily on the snow-covered ground as he slowly trudged towards his brother's hiding place. The smell of smoke grew more unbearable and by the time he spied Sirius, he was already trying not to inhale too much of the ridiculous smell.

" _Really_? After all these years?" he snapped, scowling at the cigarette hanging precariously in-between Sirius's chapped lips. "That's an unhealthy habit, Sirius. I thought you said you were just curious, when you tried it before?"

Sirius had tensed when he'd heard Regulus's voice, but thankfully, he hadn't run away. "I only smoke when I have a lot of things on my mind," he grumbled.

He grimly pulled the cigarette out of his lips when Regulus started to cough, letting it fall from his fingertips. He stomped on it with the heel of his dragonhide boots until the embers died. Smoke still billowed out from the cigarette and, annoyed, Regulus pointed his wand at the offending object and _Evanesco_ -ed it away.

"What are you doing outside?" Sirius quipped. "It's bloody freezing out here."

Regulus eyed his leather jacket in envy. He almost rolled his eyes at how impossibly Muggle Sirius looked. He could imagine Walburga screaming her throat raw, if she saw her eldest son's clothes. Sirius would undoubtedly enjoy it, that bastard. Regulus still firmly believed that Sirius was born into this world to purposively make Walburga's life miserable.

"You ran away," he finally opted to reply, when Sirius was still quietly waiting for him to speak. "As usual."

Sirius scowled and looked away. "I needed to think," he snarled.

"Maybe it'd be better to think _inside_ ," Regulus insisted. "Like you've said, it's bloody freezing out here."

"Euphemia hates it when I smoke," Sirius explained. "The smell stays in the carpet and she'd surely have my head."

The younger wizard quirked an eyebrow. "Funny," he started, "you didn't have any qualms about smoking inside Grimmauld Place. Absolutely drove our mother mad, you know."

Sirius's lips stretched into a wry smile. "Yeah, well, I love Euphemia to bits and pieces and I don't want her to get mad at me," he said. "That _woman_ , on the other hand…"

He let his words hang because they both knew how Sirius truly felt about Walburga. He didn't even address her as his mother anymore.

Now, without the distraction of Sirius's stupid habit, a tense silence stretched between the two brothers. Regulus shifted on his feet and grew uncomfortable, once again asking himself if going after Sirius had been a good idea. He'd spent most of his Hogwarts years ignoring Sirius's existence completely, pretending his idiot of a brother was a mere blip in the Ancient and Noble House of Black. Both Orion and Walburga never really recognised Sirius's existence, after all.

"Is it—"

Regulus's eyes sharply landed back on Sirius. His older brother had an odd look on his face, eyebrows knitted together, nose scrunched up in deep thought, and lips curled into a small frown. Regulus almost snorted, noting how after all these years, Sirius still had trouble hiding his emotions. It would have been infinitely disastrous if Sirius had been Sorted into Slytherin. Someone like him, thrown in with a bunch of snakes, he would have been eaten alive. He wore his heart on his sleeves, made his real thoughts known. He was everything that Regulus wasn't, which was why he wasn't fit to be the Black heir.

But despite their glaring differences, Regulus loved his brother very, _very_ much. When they were young, he used to follow Sirius everywhere he went. The bright, warm boy always found new adventures in such a dreary place like Grimmauld, and Regulus trailed behind, starry eyed as his older brother pulled him into various activities that almost always resulted in punishment. Regulus used to beg his mother to spare Sirius, but she'd hit him with another spell, and he would be ignored. Instead, she'd constantly tell Regulus that he was their only hope, and he shouldn't follow Sirius everywhere he went because he was a disgrace to the family - she wished he had never been born.

These words had reverberated through Sirius's very soul. Regulus had seen how his warm, bright brother grew miserable in their home, always snapping at their house-elves and pushing Regulus away. It had broken his poor, young heart.

Things had spiralled from there when Sirius was Sorted into Gryffindor, and when he made friends with a bunch of Blood-Traitors and Muggleborns. Sirius had grown more and more rebellious, so naturally, Regulus had to grow more and more distant from his disgraceful brother. His parents groomed him as the perfect, Black heir instead, showering him with everything he wanted, which only made Sirius grow more resentful.

No one really batted an eye when Sirius ran away from home one day. It was inevitable; everybody had been waiting for it.

But despite all of this, despite _everything_ they'd been through, Regulus still terribly missed his brother and all of their ridiculous adventures back at Grimmauld Place.

"Is it really true?" Sirius asked, managing to form coherent words this time. "What Hermione said? The horcrux hunt? The—" He took a sharp intake of breath as his eyes landed on Regulus's covered forearm.

"Yes," Regulus dully said. "All of it."

Sirius took another sharp intake of breath and cursed under his breath. His brother started to pace, his shoes already leaving footprints on the snowy ground. In spite of the tension, Regulus smiled. After all these years, Sirius still paced when he had so many things on his mind.

Regulus merely kept silent and watched him pace, knowing it wouldn't do him any good if he disturbed Sirius's thinking.

Finally, he drew to a halt and pierced him with his silver eyes. "Why?" was his question.

"Why what?"

"Why are you doing all of this?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Regulus asked with a snort. "Because I want Voldemort to die."

Sirius's gaze didn't waver. "That's not the only thing, is it?" he whispered.

His brother's gaze held meaning that stirred something in his heart. He formed his carefully crafted mask once more, unwilling to show any emotion that would deem him vulnerable. He had once before made a mistake in showing how he'd felt about Sirius's abandonment to Walburga. The stinging of his cheek was forever burned into his mind, and he'd vowed never to show any emotions to his parents again.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Regulus spat, scowling at his feet.

Sirius took a deep, stuttering breath. "Reggie," he said.

A lump formed in his throat. Nobody ever called him that except Sirius.

Regulus then remembered Hermione's words, urging him not to hide behind his mask. She said that at the Potter Manor, no one would use his emotions against him. She said that here, if he wanted them to understand everything he'd done in his life, he shouldn't hide behind his mask.

His heart clenched tightly as the lump grew unbearably large. He could feel the cracks appearing in his mask, piece by piece drifting away with the wind. He hadn't even realised tears had welled up in his eyes, until he stared at Sirius and saw he was blurry from the water in his eyes.

"Because I'm _tired_ of this life, Sirius," he finally confessed. "I'm tired of all the expectations. I'm tired of constantly looking over my shoulder, ensuring that I make our parents proud, making sure that I don't cross any lines and make _fucking_ Voldemort upset. It's—"

He gasped as his emotions rushed out of him like a great tidal wave. His hand snaked to his heart, clutching tightly onto his shirt like his life depended on it. "It's so lonely being a Black, Sirius. Do you know that?" he tiredly whispered. "Our blood weighs heavily on our shoulders. _Do you know that_?" A harsh laugh escaped from his lips. "Of course you don't. Because you're a bloody fucking coward who ran away and joined your merry, little friends. Because you're a bloody fucking coward who left me _alone_ , with our parents' expectations and Voldemort's stupid ideologies."

Sirius's smile turned almost feral. "Why do you think I ran in the first place? I _know_ how burdensome it is to be a Black, Reggie." He expelled a huge sigh, his breath making visible puffs in the frigid air. "And I wasn't a coward. I knew everything we'd been told was wrong and I couldn't stay there anymore. Running away was the best thing that I've ever done in my life."

"But what about _me_?" Regulus cried, furiously pointing at his chest. "What about your brother?"

Sirius wryly laughed. "I thought you were just like them," he confessed.

"Well, I'm not," he spat. "But of course, you don't know that because you've never talked to me, much less _looked_ at me, have you? You never even once stopped and asked if I wanted to run away with you."

The older wizard stomped towards him, a thunderous expression on his face. "Why? If I asked you on that day, to pack away your things, to leave _everything_ behind, would you have joined me?" he exclaimed.

"YES!"

Sirius's expression morphed into shock, his jaw hanging open as Regulus's answer resounded around them both.

The Slytherin drew in a deep gasp, angrily wiping his tears away. Maybe showing his emotions had been a bad idea after all.

"I didn't—"

All his pent-up anger melted like the snow underneath his boots. All Regulus felt now was deep exhaustion that he knew could never be eased by merely sleeping. "If you'd asked me to join you that day, to run away with you and leave everything behind," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper, "I would have gladly gone with you, Sirius."

Sirius's face crumpled as tears steadily poured down from his eyes. In two, big strides, he had reached forward and pulled Regulus towards him.

Regulus stilled for a moment, disbelieving of what was happening.

"I-I'm sorry," Sirius sobbed. "I'm sorry, Reggie. You're not alone. Not anymore. I promise. _I promise_."

More tears welled up in Regulus's eyes as soft sobs escaped from his lips, his hand tightly clutching the back material of Sirius's leather jacket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy schnaps, this arc is finally done. Just so you know, this chapter and the last two were so exhausting to write hahaha. I'm glad this arc is finally done but of course there's still plenty of emotionally exhausting chapters to come lmao. Don't say I didn't warn you haha.
> 
> There are only two chapters left set in Hermione's seventh year. After that, well, I'll leave it to your imagination haha.
> 
> See you tomorrow!
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes)!


	40. chapter thirty-nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I woke up to 900+ kudos and yowwwwww 😭 😳 ❤️

* * *

**xxxix.**

_**we were amateurs at war – part i** _

(Mars by Sleeping at Last)

* * *

**January 6, 1979**

Hermione felt a wave of déjà vu as their doorbell rang whilst Peter brought her trunk downstairs.

"It's them, isn't it?" she asked, frowning at Peter's hair.

"I didn't invite them," he said with a deep sigh. The doorbell rang once more. "I'll get it."

The brunette tugged her trunk down the last few steps and entered the living room. She weakly smiled in greeting when James, Sirius, and Remus walked inside the house. Seeing that it was a Saturday, none of them were in their work clothes. Sirius was still wearing his beloved leather jacket, while James and Remus were in their casual robes.

"Last term at Hogwarts," was Sirius's greeting. "Excited, Whiskers?"

She swallowed down a retort about it being pointless to go back to Hogwarts now that they were at the peak of war. Instead, she managed to reply with a soft, "Yeah."

James was instantly beside her, his warm hand enclosing around hers.

"We're not taking the car this time," Peter announced, pulling Hermione's trunk away from her.

"We're not?" Sirius looked very disappointed.

"Peter has to help mum with something today," Hermione replied as she walked out of the door, the Marauders closely following behind. "We're going to Apparate."

Seeing that she already had her license to Apparate, Hermione didn't ask for James's permission as she grabbed onto him. They reappeared almost immediately at the Apparation point a few blocks away from King's Cross, hidden from the throngs of bustling commuters, Muggle and Magic alike.

"A little warning next time, Hermione," James complained as their other friends soon materialised.

"Sorry," she quipped. "I'm going to be late."

"It isn't eleven in the morning yet, Hermione," Remus piped in.

"I have a meeting with MacMillan and the Prefects in a few," she said, her lips curling into an annoyed frown. "Something about the Prefect patrol schedule. Honestly a waste of time, if you ask me."

She ignored how they exchanged glances over her shoulders, eyebrows raised up to their hairlines.

Hermione's sour expression softened into petulant resignation. She knew she had been on edge ever since they'd come back from the Potter Manor. Dumbledore had sent her a letter just this morning reminding her again that she should focus on her NEWTs and Head Girl duties for the remaining months. He explicitly emphasised that he was banning her from receiving any news from the Order, lest it would trigger her into another mission that could endanger her life. She wasn't allowed to ask questions - from her brother and the others, effectively leaving her in the dark. Unless, of course, Dumbledore deemed something was important for her to know. Bitterly, she knew Regulus would have more knowledge than her, now that Dumbledore was going to train him in order to become a spy for the Order.

They silently meandered through the busy station and crossed Platform Nine and Three Quarters. There were still a few students around, seeing that they were quite early. She spied the Head Boy climbing inside the train, however. And so, with a quick murmured goodbye to the other four, she snatched her trunk from Peter's grip and pulled her hand away from James.

Her boyfriend didn't let go, tugging her back, until she had no choice but to grumpily glance at the four Marauders. "I'm really going to be late, you know," she pointed out.

She hated how they were all looking at her, like she would do something reckless and get herself killed. She understood their worry, _really_ , because she knew she'd sported that look for Harry Potter in her past life.

"You know that Dumbledore's not purposively leaving you in the dark, yeah?" James asked. When Hermione threw him a scathing glare, he sighed. "All right, so maybe _he_ is purposively leaving you in the dark. But he means well, Hermione. Let us handle this Voldemort shite while you breeze through your last months at Hogwarts and get all O's in your bloody NEWTs. It'll be over soon."

Hermione glanced heavenward and took a deep breath. "You know why the Second Wizarding War dragged on?" she softly asked, piercing them with her blue eyes. They looked mighty uncomfortable at her question. The four had been trying not to broach her past life and time travelling, because she knew they were still confused about everything that had happened. "Well, do you?"

"Why?" Remus asked with a small frown.

"It's because Dumbledore purposively kept us in the dark," she grumbled with a sour glare. "My best friend and I had to constantly decipher all of Dumbledore's riddles, whilst at the same time trying to keep each other alive. If we'd have known about the horcruxes before Dumbledore _bloody_ _died_ , then we may have had a chance at searching for them all and defeating him."

"Dumbledore died?" Sirius yelped.

She blinked rapidly and glanced at the Marauders, noting their shocked, pale faces. "I shouldn't have said that," she mumbled, her fingers already rubbing the bridge of her nose to calm down. "I'm sorry."

Peter was the first one to snap out of his surprise, already pulling Hermione into a comforting hug. "I'll owl you as soon as something huge comes up," he promised. "Fuck what Dumbledore said."

Sirius expelled a mock gasp. "Peter!" he cried, although the corner of his lips was twitching into an amused smile. "I can't believe you just said that!"

Her annoyance melted into mild amusement.

"She deserves to know," Peter said with a soft sigh. "She's just as involved as anyone of us." Then, with a pointed stare at her, he continued, "But if something comes up at Hogwarts, _you_ will tell us immediately, yeah? One thing Dumbledore got right is that you should focus on your studies more, though. He just wants to keep you alive."

"Fine," she breathed out, already melting against her brother's embrace. "I can do that."

"I hope you _do_ ," James called. "I'd rather there be no surprise visits in my room in the middle of the night for the next few months, Hermione." Then, a small smirk grew on his face. " _Unless_ , you terribly miss me and you intend to do some delightful activities with me such as—"

"If you finish that sentence, I will hex you, Potter," she snarled whilst her brother's face grew pale with horror.

James's smirk melted into a small, worried smile. "Kidding aside, I really hope there won't be any surprise visits," he seriously said. "Have mercy on me, Hermione."

Hermione sighed as she pulled away from Peter. "I'm sorry about that," she said, already reaching forward to clutch his hand. "I'll make sure that doesn't happen again."

Sirius cleared his throat, getting her attention. He shiftily looked around the train station, nervously fidgeting with the collar of his leather jacket. "Make sure everybody's safe in Hogwarts, kitten," he said. His grey eyes firmly landed on her, his lips pressed into a thin line. " _Everybody_."

She smiled, knowing full well what Sirius meant. She wasn't privy to what had transpired between the brothers back at the Potter Manor, but one thing she could deduce, was that they'd made up. Sirius had been annoyingly clingy with Regulus, and had whined loudly when his younger brother had bid them goodbye since he was needed back home. Regulus looked more amused than annoyed, though, and Hermione took that as good progress in their relationship.

"I will try," she said. "I'll keep an eye on him and owl you immediately if something comes up. I promise."

Sirius's cheeks turned pink but he gratefully nodded his head in reply.

Her eyes finally landed on the scarred wizard. "Please keep them out of trouble, Remus," she said, reaching forward to give him a brief hug. "You're my only hope."

The werewolf chuckled against her ear and patted her back. "I'm not going to keep any promises, Hermione," he warned. "But I will try."

"That's good enough," she grumbled, already pulling away from him to give Sirius a hug.

"Regulus will be safe," she whispered against his ear. "I promise. I will make sure of it."

He crumpled the back material of her jumper, his stare unwavering. "If something comes up with him, if he's in danger, tell me immediately, Hermione," he demanded in a whisper. "Bloody git reassures me everything will be fine when he's practically defying Voldemort with his reckless behaviour. Seriously, _I'm_ the Gryffindor between us."

"I sometimes think we Sort people too early," she pointed out with a reassuring smile. "And Regulus will be fine. He's already agreed to me checking up on him once in a while."

Sirius sighed and nodded his head. "Please be careful," he whispered. "Both of you."

Hermione smiled and gave him a chaste kiss on his cheek. "Bye, Sirius," she said.

She gave Peter another hug in goodbye before she smiled at James, already beckoning him towards her open arms. His warmth enveloped her completely, prompting her to unknowingly sigh as she placed her head against his shoulder.

"I'm going to miss you the most," she confessed, aware that her cheeks were already warm against his neck.

"Don't do anything reckless, Hermione," he begged. "Please. I need you alive."

She placed a brief kiss at the junction between his neck and shoulder. "I'm not going to die," she teased, pulling away to grin up at him. "I might run away again if things get too hopeless."

He snorted at her terrible joke and dropped a kiss on her forehead. "I love you, Hermione," he whispered in her ear before completely pulling away.

Her reply sat on the tip of her tongue, her heart fluttering at how glittering his hazel eyes were. But before she could stutter out a reply, the train's whistle blew, signalling its impending departure.

"Goodbye," she settled in reply, her blue eyes sweeping from James to the others. "Please be safe. Always."

* * *

**January 31, 1979**

Despite her initial annoyance that she had to get through her mundane life as a graduating student at Hogwarts, when surely there were far more important things to focus on (e.g. horcrux hunt, war, etc.), Hermione found herself amusingly distracted by her upcoming NEWTs and Head Girl duties.

Wednesday night found her in the library once more, surrounded by her Ravenclaw roommates, who were all diligently catching up with Hermione's colour-coded schedule.

"Hey, Hermione," Dorothy distractedly asked, her eyes still trained intently on her parchment. "What do you add to an Elixir to Induce Euphoria again, to counterbalance excessive singing and nose-tweaking again?"

"Peppermint."

"Yes! That's the one." Dorothy's writing grew more furious, her Potions notes steadily gaining length.

"Fuck, Hermione," Alex whined. "Can you please state Golpallot's Third Law again? I always forget it."

"The antidote for a blended poison will be equal to more than the sum of the antidotes for each of the separate components," Hermione murmured without batting an eyelid.

"You're a lifesaver, Hermione," the blonde girl sighed.

"Who invented Felix Felicis again?" Michelle asked. "Zyg… moid? Zygmount?"

"Zygmunt Budge," the brunette absentmindedly replied.

Michelle excitedly nodded her head and jotted down the answer.

For the remaining hours, that was how the four students studied. Hermione would also ask various questions, which they would correctly answer.

Hermione let the normalcy of it all put her tumultuous mind at peace. For a while, the horcrux hunt and Voldemort were shoved to the farthest recess of her mind, letting her focus on the simpler things. It wasn't what she would have wanted at that moment, but she appreciated the calmness before the raging storm.

"Pettigrew."

She blinked in surprise and glanced up. Dirk Cresswell was standing near their table, a sheepish smile on his face. He was flanked by two other Gryffindors that she only knew by their familiar faces.

"Can I help you?" she asked, absentmindedly cracking her knuckles to relieve her of the pain caused from gripping her quill for so long.

The seventh year Gryffindor cleared his throat. "So… how are you?" he casually asked.

Beside her, Alex snorted in disbelief. "Just get on with it, Cresswell," the blonde sniped. "We're busy."

Hermione shot an amused look at her cranky friend. Alex's immaculate blonde hair looked almost wiry and lacklustre, neglected from hours and hours of unending studying. She made a mental note to suggest a few breaks in the future, knowing full well this was her colour-coded schedule's fault.

"Err," the wizard started, "so remember when we talked last Hogsmeade? With Potter?"

"Go on," she deliberately said, unsure where this conversation was going.

"You said it was fine if the blokes and I study with you for the NEWTs," he deliberately continued. "But you see, we've got a problem, Pettigrew. _Huge_."

Her eyebrows knitted together, suspicious. "What problem?" she asked.

Dirk awkwardly scratched his chin as a sheepish smile grew on his face. "I'd rather you see it for yourself." He gestured for her to follow him, as he and his other Gryffindor mates turned on their heels and shuffled out of the library.

Hermione exchanged glances with her Ravenclaw friends before reluctantly standing up. Dorothy and the others closely followed, admittedly curious as to what had made the Gryffindor fidgety.

As she peeked outside the library, Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. At least twenty or more students were waiting, mostly Gryffindors, with a few Hufflepuffs - and were all huddled closer together. The brunette wordlessly glanced at Dirk, who was still sporting a sheepish smile on his face.

"You see, the Head Girl's quite infamous for her brains and colour-coded schedules," he started. "NEWTs are bloody hard and we're at our wit's end here. I told my friends that you were willing to tutor us, but I didn't expect my word of mouth to spread like wildfire. So…" He nervously gestured at the group, identical pleas in their eyes as Hermione stared back at them in bewilderment. "I hope you'll tutor us, Hermione Pettigrew."

* * *

**February 2, 1979**

"I'm really sorry it has come to this, Harold," Hermione mumbled, shiftily glancing at the stoic Head Boy standing beside her.

Currently, they were in the common room of their Head's Dormitory, standing in front of a large crowd of eager seventh year students.

After Dirk's visit at the library - revealing that a lot of seventh years wanted to study with Hermione Pettigrew - the Head Girl had no choice but to accept their request. It was, after all, for studying purposes and to pass their NEWTs. Hermione couldn't deny these students who just wanted to study diligently.

However, the fact that she would be tutoring such a large crowd became a problem. Of course, they couldn't study in the library; Hermione could already imagine Madame Pince's horrified expression if she saw rowdy Gryffindors and cheery Hufflepuffs simultaneously asking questions of the Head Girl, disrupting those who wanted to study in peace. Hermione thought of the Room of Requirement too, but she and Regulus still sometimes used it for their duelling sessions.

Hence, the most logical thing she could think of was using the Head's Dormitory. However, she wasn't sure if Harold was on board. Despite working with him for almost a year already, their relationship was purely civil and work-related. The Hufflepuff always wanted to spend his days with his Hufflepuff best friends, which Hermione didn't mind. Which was why it made her a bit nervous, wondering what he'd think about her suggestion.

"Well," Harold started after clearing his throat. "I just have one condition if you really want to do this."

Hermione frowned in worry. "What condition?" she asked.

Harold sheepishly smiled. "Everybody knows about the Head Girl's infamous colour-coded schedules. The Marauders loudly proclaimed how your schedule helped them become Aurors. If you don't mind, maybe you'd like to make one for me too?"

"And us," Dirk Cresswell piped in.

Hermione snorted in disbelief as her eyes scanned the whole crowd. "Blimey, all right," she said, slightly exasperated. "If it means my schoolmates will graduate with flying colours, then I can't really say no to that, can I?"

* * *

**March 2, 1979**

It was rare for the Head Girl to be seen alone nowadays. Hermione was constantly flanked by her tutees everywhere she went, rigorously asking questions and requesting her to explain a difficult concept.

The brunette appreciated the distraction – _welcomed_ it even – especially when she constantly worried about her friends outside Hogwarts and what was happening with the Order and the fight against Voldemort. James and Peter still wrote to her, but their letters had been infrequent. As two of the new and best recruits, James and Sirius were often sent into missions to track down rogue Death Eaters. Peter had been quite busy too, often assigned for stealth missions by Moody since his Animagus form was one of the most useful. Remus had been busy with Order missions too, with Dumbledore sending him to various wolf packs around the continent to rally their support and to snoop to find out about Voldemort's recruitment.

Her best friends weren't any different either. Lily was swamped with Unspeakable work, buried underneath various mysterious artifacts and phenomena that had been suddenly erupting all throughout Europe. Lily rarely spoke about her work, but she had once hinted that because the Dark Magic was used at large by the Death Eaters, magic disruption had been occurring. Sev, on the other hand, continued his rigorous training under Professor Slughorn's mentorship. Hermione had seen him at least twice this term, but he never stayed long enough to converse with her.

Which was why Hermione was glad that she had another difficult task to focus on. At least, tutoring was something she was good at and it would distract her from incessantly worrying for the welfare of her friends.

But sometimes, she missed her solitude. Although these were the times when worry would consume her whole, she still coveted the days when no one would suddenly pop in to pester her about their studies.

Today was one of those blessed days. Hermione was found tucked away in the very back of the library near the Restricted Section. Students rarely ventured to this spot, which was why Hermione loved to hide in this particular nook. The only people she allowed to join her in this coveted place were her best friends. Seeing that both of them had already graduated, Hermione knew no one would be able to find her there.

So far, she had been able to push any dark thoughts about horcruxes and the war to the deepest recesses of her brain, as she concentrated on finishing her Arithmancy coverage for the day.

She didn't know how long she'd stayed in the library. Lost in the endless sea of numbers and computations, the outside world melted into nothingness.

It was only when a shadow loomed over her table, obscuring the words on her Arithmancy textbook, that Hermione finally snapped her eyes away from her book. She blearily blinked at a slightly smirking Severus, whose eyebrows were all the way up to his hairline in amusement.

"Sev?" she asked in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Searching for you is bloody hard. Do you know that?" he asked. Without waiting for her reply, he grasped her arm and hauled her onto her feet. "Come on."

She dug her heels into the stony floor to stop him from further pulling her away. "What are you doing?" she protested, trying to yank her arm away, but Sev's grip just tightened.

"Knowing you, I'm sure you've been cooped inside the castle for _months_ ," he pointed out matter-of-factly. "Come on, Pettigrew. You need some fresh air."

She lightly scowled and glared at the back of his neat hair. But admittedly, he was right; Hermione had been swamped with NEWTs for months - she never really had the chance to get out of the castle and roam around. She had even ditched going to Hogsmeade, finding it pointless now that she didn't have her friends or her boyfriend to accompany her.

"Aren't you busy?" she asked as Sev successfully pulled her out of the library.

"Slughorn gave me some free time today," he answered, briefly glancing at Hermione over his shoulder. " _Finally_ , if you ask me. Old coot's been tiring me like a bloody house-elf."

She swatted his arm, disapprovingly. "You can't talk about professors like that," she admonished.

" _You_ can't smack future professors like that either," he said, prompting her to snort.

"You've only assisted Professor Slughorn in two first year classes. I can hardly call you a professor yet, Sev. _Besides_ , I heard it was disastrous."

She snickered when his cheeks dusted with pink. "It wasn't disastrous," he corrected with a scoff. "The Gryffindor imp just didn't know how to properly brew a Wiggenwald Potion."

"Because it was his _first_ time," she answered. She petulantly tugged at his arm and frowned. "You really shouldn't bully students, Sev."

"I don't bully," he said, although there was an uncertain glint in his eyes.

"Yes you do, you berk," Hermione said with an unladylike snort. "You have to understand that not everybody can grasp the concept of Potions as brilliantly as you do. Lily and I weren't exactly atrocious at Potions either, but when we stumbled a bit, you got so much pleasure pointing it out. We're used to your sourpuss tendencies, but others aren't, Sev."

He rolled his eyes. "People are too sensitive sometimes," he grumbled.

"You're _too_ mean," she corrected. "Honestly, Sev. Be kinder to other people."

He sullenly frowned, but Hermione could there was confusion in his dark eyes. Smiling sadly, she hooked her arm with his, knowing full well that Severus Snape had never been shown kindness as a child and so, had difficulty showing it to others. Hermione was just glad she and Lily had been beside him for years, because despite his awful childhood, at least this version of Snape wasn't blinded by the Dark Arts. He was bloody grumpy, she knew that, but at least, _at least_ he wasn't hanging out with the wrong sort of people.

They finally walked out of the Hogwarts castle and Hermione was momentarily distracted by the cool breeze that caressed her cheeks. Unwittingly, a smile grew on her face as she gazed around the peaceful Hogwarts field. _Merlin_ , when was the last time she had been really outside? It truly felt like ages for the Ravenclaw.

Severus pulled her towards the oak tree they used to hang out at, near the Black Lake. Hermione settled underneath it's comforting shade, shifting on the ground to make room for Sev.

For a moment, they merely basked in the silence, watching amusedly as the Giant Squid swam around with ridiculous strokes.

"Have you been well, Hermione?"

She glanced at Sev out of the corner of her eyes and smiled, noting the worry in his eyes. "Yes," she replied.

"No reckless shenanigans with a specific someone that might cost you your life?"

The corners of her lips twitched at his disapproving frown. "No," she simply said.

His stare was unforgiving. "You hang out too much with Potter and his idiotic friends," he accused. "I honestly think that your reckless behaviour was born out of their ridiculous influence on you."

"And not because I'm a time traveller, War Heroine?" she teased.

Sev snorted and leant against the bark of the humongous oak tree. "Maybe that too," he added with an amused glint in his eyes. "But _seriously_ , Pettigrew. You're not running around and chasing danger, are you?"

"I'm really not, Sev," she earnestly said. "I've been an obedient student, swamped with NEWTs and Head Girl duties. Dumbledore would be proud of me."

He smirked at the sour look on her face. "Ah, so you're not entirely a fan of that old coot," he said.

"Don't talk about him like that," she said, swatting his arm again. "He's still the Headmaster." When he merely quirked an eyebrow, she sighed and slumped forwards. "He was really difficult, where I came from. My best friend trusted him with his life, oblivious that Dumbledore had been keeping secrets from us."

"You don't trust him," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Oh, I do," Hermione said. "I know that he really, _truly_ wants to get rid of Voldemort to make this world a better place. But, I'm not a fan of how he handles – well – _us_. I think he believes that in order to protect people, you must keep things to yourself - when in fact, sometimes withholding information may bring more harm than necessary. For example, my best friend's death."

He frowned at her sarcastic snip, his hand unconsciously resting on her arm to relay comfort.

She was marginally mollified, throwing him a small smile. "I'm sorry," she said, expelling a soft sigh. "It's unfair of me to entirely blame Dumbledore for everything that happened in the past. He genuinely cared for my best friend, you know. I just wished he'd trusted us more to handle the truth. Maybe the war wouldn't have stretched on for as long. Maybe my best friend might not have died and we could have won the war."

"Then you wouldn't be here."

Her smile grew forlorn, noting the strain in his voice. "No, I wouldn't be. Most likely," she said, reaching forward to squeeze his hand. "But I'm here now and there's no use in dwelling in the past. 'What ifs' are a huge waste of time."

He silently squeezed her hand in return, his gaze once more landing on the Giant Squid.

"How's Lily?" she quipped after a few minutes of serene silence. "I haven't heard from her in a while."

Sev made a face. "She's been spending a lot of time in the Ministry," he grumbled. "I don't see her often either, if you must know. Her brilliant brain's been a huge asset to the department and they've been working her until she can barely walk. She can't even talk about her work!"

In spite of the worry she felt for the redhead, a bemused smile appeared on her face. "Lily must be having a hard time not being able to talk about her day," she teased.

A huff of laughter escaped from Sev's lips. "She swears she's going to go crazy soon," he declared. His eyes turned fond as he thought about his witch. "But she loves being an Unspeakable so much, despite all the difficulties."

"Lily is already a brilliant Unspeakable," she claimed with certainty. Sev smiled and nodded his head.

"Speaking of Lily." He rummaged inside his robes and pulled out a rolled parchment. "She asked me to give this to you."

Hermione gingerly pulled the parchment from his hand. "What's this about?"

He shrugged. "Maybe about the wedding and shite," he said, expelling a tired sigh. When Hermione gave him an amused look, he grimaced. "We've both agreed to keep the wedding as simple as possible, especially with all the financial aspects of the celebration. But it's been _tiring_ with all the planning. I know Lily does most of the planning with the help of her parents, but there's a lot of stupid details I don't care about."

"But Lily does, so _you_ have to care," she teased.

"Of course," he sniffed.

"Do you already have a planned date for the wedding?"

"Yes," he replied. "July 31st."

The smile on Hermione's face fell as her heart almost leapt to her throat. "W-what?" she stuttered.

"July 31st," he repeated, oblivious to the change in Hermione's mood. "Like I said, Lily's swamped with her work so she doesn't really have any free days. She's already bargained the last week of July for some time off, to finally get married to me."

July 31st.

Lily wanted to get married on July 31st.

On Harry Potter's birthday.

Hermione's throat clogged up with sudden, suffocating emotion and she tried to breathe through her nose just to calm herself down.

"It's a terrible year to get married, I told her," Sev continued, his eyes trained at the horizon. "We're in the middle of a bloody war, for Merlin's sake! But Lily insisted, especially since we're both very much involved in this war as Order members." His lips twitched into a sad smile. "She said that if everything went downhill, we might as well get married and spend a few blissful months together. The pinnacle is approaching. Dumbledore said. We don't know what might happen to us in the end and—" He trailed off and thickly swallowed. "If we are not going to survive this war, then might as well spend your last few days with the one you love."

All thoughts about Harry Potter flew out of her mind as she digested Sev's words. Her blue eyes turned to him sharply, an indignant sound escaping from her lips. " _No one's_ going to die," she vehemently proclaimed. "I'll make sure of it!"

He glanced at her in surprise. His dark eyes softened upon seeing the determination in her eyes. "Nothing's certain, Hermione," he said. "Despite your knowledge of Voldemort due to your past, the future isn't set in stone. For all we know, there's a huge possibility the future you've known might not even exist anymore. I mean, _you_ are here, aren't you? You were born as a different person, with a different name, and a different family. That's already a huge change."

Hermione grew deeply bothered at his words. She knew that with her presence here in this timeline, being reborn as a different _person_ , already meant things would change greatly. She fervently wished that she could change the upcoming events – James and Lily's deaths, Peter's ultimate betrayal, Voldemort marking Harry as his equal… And she _would_ make sure those things don't happen at all.

But there was also a part of her that was fearful. Her being in this timeline already meant there would be certain events that would happen which she hadn't foreseen before. A primary example being Lily's marriage to Severus. Another was James Potter confessing he was in love with her.

"Pettigrew?"

She snapped out of her internal panicking and turned to her worried friend. "I'm sorry, I just suddenly had a lot on my mind," she excused. She then brushed her curls away and beamed brightly at Sev, praying that her smile didn't look too rattled. "I'm truly happy for you both, Sev." She threw her arms around him and squeezed him tight. "You and Lily both deserve to be happy."

Sev melted against her embrace and patted her back. "You deserve to be happy, too," he replied.

Her eyes swam with tears, wondering how she would truly achieve that in this timeline.

**-ooo-**

Later that night, Hermione finally had the chance to read Lily's letter.

_Dearest Hermione,_

_How are you? I hope you are doing well! Knowing you, I'm sure you're already relentlessly studying for your NEWTs. Please, for the love of all good things in this world, take care of yourself. I know Sev's often in Hogwarts with Slughorn, but he can't keep an eye on you due to his schedule. I miss you very, very much and I still wish to see you graduate from Hogwarts alive and breathing._

_As for me, I think I'm going to die soon. Slowly and painful, because ruddy hell, Hermione! Who knew becoming an Unspeakable was going to be this rigorous? Professor McGonagall's career orientation hadn't prepared me for this. But, despite it all, I think I'm managing. Despite all the hardships, I really love what I'm currently doing and unfortunately, I might continue doing this for the rest of my life._

_So, anyway, I asked Sev to give you this letter because we are currently faced with a predicament – your maid of honour dress! Sev might have already told you we are planning on getting married at the end of July. We must start shopping for your dress soon. I'm going to try and find some free time to shop with you after you graduate. Hopefully, it will be sooner than that._

_I miss you, Hermione. I hope to see you soon._

_Love,  
_ _Lily_

Hermione smiled sadly at the letter, also terribly missing her feisty best friend. No one was here to chatter her ear off, talking about the most mundane things about her day, and being generally _present_.

As she sauntered towards her desk to pen a reply, she heard soft tapping on the window closest to her bed.

She curiously opened the window and let a large, imposing grey owl fly down onto her desk. The owl was unfamiliar, but Hermione deduced someone important probably owned him.

"Who're you from?" she asked, her fingers brushing gently against his feathers. The grey owl hooted and stuck out his leg, waiting for Hermione to untie the letter.

The owl didn't wait for her reply - as soon as the parchment was free from his leg, he hooted his goodbye and swooped out of the window, disappearing into the night sky.

Hermione suspiciously eyed the parchment and slowly unrolled it, her blue eyes already taking in the words.

Horror bloomed in her heart, already sickened by the words on the parchment. It spoke of a great, new world where glory and power would reign. It spoke of ridding the world of those they deemed beneath them – _Muggles_. It spoke of an invitation, for Hermione to join their cause.

She couldn't finish the unsigned letter, her hand immediately clutching onto her wand. " _Incendio_ ," she harshly spat, the wand tip aimed at the offending letter.

She watched in satisfaction as fire licked the paper until it was merely a pile of ash.

The others were right: _he_ had also come for her. Hermione debated whether to tell this to Peter and his friends or not.

' _They're too busy,'_ she firmly told herself, absentmindedly vanishing the ash into thin air. _'Better not to worry them.'_

Hermione plopped down onto her bed and stared at her canopy, unseeing. Her heart still raced at the thought she'd been invited to become one of Voldemort's followers. The others had already warned her, but for her to really get his bloody invitation had shaken Hermione to her core.

She'd spectacularly failed at everything she'd planned as Hermione Pettigrew. She planned not to get herself involved too much with people important in this war, but she knew it would be futile the first time she had truly accepted she was Peter Pettigrew's sister. She planned to merely watch at the side-lines and to let everything unfold, but she'd completely botched that up when she decided to help Regulus Black escape Voldemort's clutches. She planned to always keep her head down and not to place too much attention on herself, but she'd managed to become the brightest witch of her age.

Panic started to rise up from the pit of her stomach at the thought - all she'd planned in this lifetime had never come into fruition. Tears prickled in her eyes, afraid that things would turn out for the worst.

She remembered Sev's words, how he'd stated the future was uncertain, especially now that her presence was here. What if, despite all the knowledge she had about the future, she'd still be unable to defeat Voldemort?

' _No,'_ a voice firmly told her, a voice that strangely sounded like Harry. _'No. You will not let that happen. Voldemort must die.'_

"Voldemort must die," she shakily echoed, her hands curling into fists. Through her swimming eyes, she darkly glared at her canopy, the promise of ending everyone's misery by defeating Voldemort once and for all taking a strong hold in her resolve.

No matter how much this world would change because of her presence, Voldemort would still be defeated.

She would bloody make sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so I needed this chapter for a breather as transition from the events in the previous chapter to the events after this. Now that everybody knows about most of Hermione's past, the plot will really pick up after Hermione graduates hehe. There will be fluff and more too so yes, please patiently wait!
> 
> Next chapter is the last chapter set in Hermione's 7th year. See you tomorrow!
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes).


	41. chapter forty

* * *

**xxxx.**

_**we were amateurs at war – part ii** _

(Mars by Sleeping at Last)

* * *

**March 5, 1979**

Being Head Girl had its perks and Hermione Pettigrew had put them to good use.

Hermione, as usual, had cooped herself in the library to study for the NEWTs. Her Ravenclaw classmates had opted to ditch her today, bemoaning their exhaustion, and Hermione merely gave them an apologetic smile, knowing full well she'd started becoming crazy obsessed with studying again.

And, _as usual_ , Hermione had lost track of time and when she glanced at her wristwatch, it was already past curfew.

She took her precious time fixing her things and sauntering out of the library. Filch wouldn't dare give her detention because she could always use the excuse that she was Patrolling. The professors would of course commend her for her dedication in catching any rule breakers at night. She was slightly abusing her powers and she _knew_ it. She could already imagine the Marauders mercilessly teasing her for using her badge as an excuse to spend more time in the library. But, with Dumbledore forbidding her from meddling with Order business, Hermione really didn't have any other choice but to study just to distract herself from the chaos outside Hogwarts.

She truly was enjoying studying, but Hermione honestly wished for the school-year to end. She had other important things to focus on, such as her horcrux hunt and the war. The Daily Prophet still boasted increasing attacks from the Death Eaters. Peter had kept his promise and religiously wrote to her about things happening outside the school, but even he had been quite vague, apologising that some things were too confidential and risky to write on parchment. But he'd reassured her they were all fine, that they were trying their best to fight for their cause, and had begged her not to put herself in harm's way just to put their minds at ease.

Her trek towards the Head's Dormitory had been filled with these thoughts. She distractedly searched different alcoves, too, just to catch any lurking students around, but blessedly, she hadn't caught any rule breakers at all.

But such relief was short-lived when the hairs on her neck prickled. _Someone_ was watching her and with her war-heightened senses, Hermione tightly clutched her wand and whipped around in search of a person. She warily eyed the portraits, trying to see if the sensation of being watched was their doing, but all the portraits in that corridor were already asleep.

_Suspiciously_ asleep, if she were being honest with herself.

Still, she couldn't dispel the ominous feeling. Alarm bells went off in her head, a tiny voice urging her to run back to the safety confines of her dormitory.

' _It's just a student playing a prank on you,'_ she firmly told herself just to lessen the nervousness.

Hermione's eyes swept throughout the corridor one last time. Convinced that she was just conjuring things in her mind after a very tiring day, she took a deep breath and continued her journey back to the Head's Dormitory.

But then, a soft shriek slipped out of her mouth when she saw a student standing on the opposite side of the corridor. His tongue flicked across his lips as a small smirk grew on his face, undoubtedly amused at how she'd almost jumped an inch or two in fright.

"Crouch," she growled. "You're out of bed. It's already past curfew. Twenty points from Slytherin."

He wasn't even bothered by her punishment, eyes painstakingly travelling from her head to toe, an indecipherable look on his face.

Hermione tried to dispel the urge to shiver, once again remembering his older counterpart and how _he_ was the reason why Harry Potter was brought to the graveyard in Little Hangleton. Hermione's fingers flexed, itching to grip the rough handle of her wand.

She shouldn't underestimate this wizard. He was still marvellously young, twenty years away from the Death Eater who'd been able to singlehandedly overpower a renowned, seasoned Auror, but the way his dark brown eyes flickered in the dark meant he was already unforgiving.

The Ravenclaw stiffened when he started to languidly shrink the distance between them. His footsteps were loud against the cobblestone floor, his gaze not leaving Hermione's form. He flicked his tongue over his lips once more as a feral grin grew on his face.

"Pettigrew," he coolly greeted, drawing to a halt just a few meters away from Hermione.

She fought the urge to shrink away from his intense gaze, but didn't stop herself from slowly slipping her right hand inside her robe pocket. His eyes briefly glanced at her hidden hand before looking back in her eyes, thinly-veiled amusement in them. "There's no need to unleash your scary powers tonight, Pettigrew," he drawled.

Her hand tightly wrapped around her wand. "You're out of bed," she slowly repeated. "Get back to your dormitory _now_ , Crouch, or I'll be forced to give you detention."

Crouch quirked an eyebrow. "If you want to threaten, Pettigrew, you have to mean it," he pointed out.

In a matter of seconds, her wand tip was pressed directly underneath Crouch's chin. It gave her some grim satisfaction to see that his eyes had widened a bit at her sudden action, but Crouch immediately schooled his emotions behind a carefully crafted mask. " _Perhaps_ , I didn't make myself clear," she hissed. "Get back to your dormitory, Crouch."

He coolly looked down at her and menacingly flicked his tongue out of his lips. "With that brilliant head of yours and your undoubted magical prowess, did you know you can do great things, Hermione Pettigrew?" he whispered, voice dangerously low. "Pity you hang out with the wrong sort of people." He hissed when she dug the tip of her wand deeper into his skin. "You could offer so much more in a new world – a _better_ world – where glory and power will reign supreme."

Bile rose into her throat, remembering the sickening words she'd read on the unsigned letter she'd received a few days ago. " _What do you want_?" she hissed.

His brown eyes turned steely. "I think you know what I want," he deliberately drawled. "What _he_ wants."

"I didn't know Death Eaters were still actively recruiting those who'd clearly refused to join their idiotic cause."

"A bold accusation," he sniped.

Hermione held her head higher, her heart thudding wildly inside her chest. She knew she was treading in dangerous waters, but the fact that he'd cornered her in this suspiciously deserted corridor just to _recruit_ her, drew out the war heroine in her. "I know I'm not wrong," she spat.

His lips curled into a cold sneer. "You can't prove anything, Pettigrew," he taunted.

Her grip on her wand tightened, her knuckles now already turning white. "Actually, I can," she said.

Before he could even blink, she gave her wand a mighty slash. Crouch expelled a surprised yelp when he flew into the wall, pinned into place by an invisible force. He bared his teeth, eyes wide with panic, when Hermione determinedly yanked his left sleeve up. The familiar Dark Mark glinted menacingly and the Head Girl swallowed a forming lump, steadfastly meeting Crouch's eyes.

He'd grown furious and frantic, reminiscent of the crazed Death Eater who'd proudly proclaimed his loyalty to the Dark Lord. Regulus had shown the same reaction too, when she'd forcefully pulled his sleeve up to show his own tattoo, but unlike Regulus, there was no clear remorse in Crouch's face.

"What have you done?" she breathed out, tears unwittingly filling her eyes. He was also just a boy, barely an adult in this world and it sickened Hermione, sickened her _so much_ how he was too brainwashed in believing that receiving this mark was the highest honour he could ever dream of receiving.

"You bloody fucking bitch," he snarled, thrashing wildly against the invisible hold of her spell. Hermione distractedly wondered how none of the professors or even Filch had arrived when he'd been making such a loud ruckus. "You just wait. _You_ just wait. I'm going to kill you. You might have caught the Dark Lord's fancy because how could _he_ not like you? Brightest witch of her age with the blood of a respectable family coursing through your veins! But I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I killed you."

She shivered at his threats, so full of hatred and disgust. "Shut up," she snarled, pointing her wand at him once more.

A maniacal laugh escaped from his lips. "Or you'll what? Hex me with your infamous Bat-Bogey Hex, Pettigrew?" he drawled. His eyes dangerously flashed as he ducked his head, his tongue once again flitting out. "You are _nothing_ against the Dark Lord. A mere bug he could squash with the heel of his shoe. Refusing to join his cause is a huge mistake, Pettigrew." His grin turned ominous. "You just wait. Something big will happen. Don't say I didn't warn you."

"What do you mean?" she demanded, daring to take a few steps closer.

But Crouch merely gave her a crazed grin.

"What do you _mean_?" she ground out once more, her voice a tad shrill as panic coursed through her veins.

Such was her focus on Crouch that it was already too late when she felt a wand poking against her back.

"Make one wrong move and you'll regret it, Hermione Pettigrew."

Hermione recognised the soft baritone of Evan Rosier, his threat loud and clear. Blood rushed through her ears as her senses heightened. Although Crouch was pinned against the wall, she was still outnumbered.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Hermione pressed her lips together tightly. Judging from the triumphant grin on Crouch's face, he truly believed they had the upper hand. But one thing these oblivious boys didn't know was that she used to be Hermione Granger, One-Third of the Golden Trio and a brilliant War Heroine.

They had made a terrible mistake of underestimating her.

Adrenaline now coursed through her veins as she quickly rammed her pointy elbow into Rosier's chest. He grunted in pain and Hermione took that opportunity to dance away from his wand tip. She then deftly flicked her wand and muttered a soft _'Expelliarmus'_. The Slytherin's wand soared in the air and she caught it in her hand. With another mighty slash, she sent a Stunning Spell towards Rosier.

The spell she'd used to pin Crouch against the wall had worn off after she had been distracted by Rosier. Crouch had his wand in his hand already, ready to hurtle a spell she didn't doubt would be dark, but Hermione was faster and stunned him too.

Deafening silence followed her quick attack except from her heavy breathing. For a moment, Hermione composed herself and tried to think of a plan.

It was still a wonder why they hadn't been discovered after causing such a ruckus. Now that she properly thought about it, though, Hermione had an inkling these Slytherins _had_ actually meant to corner her tonight and may have placed various spells around this corridor so they wouldn't be disturbed.

The adrenaline was slowly waning and now all Hermione could feel was raw fear and panic. _'No, no, not yet,'_ she harshly told herself, flicking her wand again. The unconscious students levitated and as Hermione turned on her heel, they trailed behind her.

She directed them inside an empty classroom before depositing them on the ground. Hermione went to Crouch first and pressed her wand tip against his temple, murmuring a soft and precise _'Obliviate'_. She meant to erase their memories of their encounter; it wouldn't do Hermione any good if they'd remembered what had transpired.

Hermione instilled a fake memory, of both Slytherins getting caught by Filch in this very room for wandering the walls past curfew.

She did the same to Rosier and after making sure they'd wake up after a few more minutes, Hermione slipped out of the room and broke into a run.

**-ooo-**

When Sev's grumpy, albeit friendly, face greeted her, Hermione immediately flew into his arms and quietly sobbed against his shoulder. Her best friend had grown still at her surprising action, but had started to pat her back for comfort.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" he hissed, although the worry laced in his voice was unmistakable. Hermione merely tightened her hold around him and with a soft sigh, Sev pulled her inside his bedchambers and closed the door behind them.

It took her a few minutes before she had finally composed herself and pulled away from Sev. Her cheeks bloomed red, embarrassed by her sudden display of emotion, especially to her best friend who was notoriously uncomfortable with such emotions. "I'm sorry I barged in without telling you beforehand," she said, noisily sniffing and haphazardly wiping her tears away.

Sev wordlessly pointed for her to sit on a squashy armchair near his blazing fireplace and sauntered towards his small coffee table to prepare her some tea.

As Hermione approached the armchair, she finally realised this was the first time she'd been in Sev's small office at Hogwarts. This was of course different from Professor Snape's own quarters, since Slughorn still occupied that room. Despite her tears, though, a small smile graced her tearstained face. The room still screamed Lily, with white lilies decorating the windowsill and the small coffee table. His office walls were painted with handsome ecru and the pieces of furniture were cosy enough to be comfortable.

"This room's _Lily-fied_ too," she softly pointed out as she finally plopped down on the chair. She almost melted in her seat, the armchair impossibly soft and comfortable.

Sev snorted and extended a teacup at her direction. "She wanted to make sure I was comfortable even when I'm not with her," he said, taking a seat across from Hermione.

"But you still go home to Spinner's End?"

"Of course," he coolly said. "It is _my_ home after all."

Her smile returned to her face, fondly remembering the times when Sev would point out that Hogwarts was his only home. Now that Lily was living with him, his childhood home had been flipped from floor to ceiling and now trumped whatever comfort Hogwarts had brought to him.

"Will you tell me now what the bloody hell you are doing here?" he asked once more, his dark eyes steadfastly piercing Hermione. "It's almost midnight, Hermione. I know you're Head Girl, but a student like you shouldn't be lurking around past curfew."

Her smile fell, reminded of her small skirmish with the Slytherins prior to barging into Sev's quarters. She quietly took a sip from her tea first to soothe her nerves, before slowly starting. "I had an encounter a while ago."

Sev's lips magnetised into a deep frown. "A little elaboration would help, Pettigrew," he said.

The cold fear she'd felt when Crouch spouted ominous words crept back into her heart. "A few days ago," she deliberately started, "I received a letter. It wasn't signed, but it was an _invitation_."

She threw him a meaningful glance, which prompted his face to darken in anger and he showed genuine worry for her. "You knew he'd try and recruit me whether you like it or not, Sev," she said, a wry smile cracking on her face. "How could he not? Brightest witch of my age with the blood of a respectable family coursing through my veins."

"You should have told someone. _Me_ ," he insisted, his worry for her now overshadowing whatever other emotions he was feeling right now.

"I wasn't worried about it at first," she explained. "James and the others had received the same letter before and they refused to join. As far as I know, Voldemort didn't try to recruit them again. I didn't want to worry anyone by telling them he'd tried to recruit me too."

He flinched at the name, his frown drawing deeper. "But something happened today," he drawled. He pointedly stared at her tearstained cheeks.

She slowly nodded her head. "Like I said, I had an encounter," she continued. Hermione slumped forward, suddenly feeling bone-deep tired, and wiped away the stray tears from her face. "It was… Crouch and Rosier." Her eyes landed back on Sev when he took a deep, shuddering breath, his face now paler. "Suffice to say, I can now confirm that they're Death Eaters."

"What did they do?" he demanded, the expression on his face thunderous. "Did they hurt you? Those _bastards_! How dare they—"

"I'm fine, Sev," she appeased, her heart warming at how overprotective he had become. "I handled them myself. They may be Death Eaters but they're… they're _new_ recruits."

"What did they do?" he asked again, his voice now softer and uncharacteristically gentle.

Hermione wearily rubbed the bridge of her nose and leaned back in the comfortable armchair. "Crouch tried to recruit me again," she whispered. "He said, with my brains and magical prowess, I could bring great things to the world Voldemort wanted."

"Can you please stop saying his name?"

"It's just _that_ , Sev," she ground out. "It's just a _name_."

He groaned and stared at her in exasperation. "Hermione…"

Tears filled her eyes once more, but her gaze was firm. "He's getting desperate. I know he is," she continued. "I knew coming back to Hogwarts was a bad idea, especially now the pinnacle is approaching. I should be out there, searching for his remaining horcrux. I should be out there, destroying all of his goddamn _horcruxes_ and defeating him once and for all. I shouldn't be here, Sev. I should… I should…"

He was immediately out of his seat and beside Hermione, tightly clasping her hands in his as his dark eyes clouded with earnest worry. She broke down into quiet sobs and threw her arms around Sev, drawing as much comfort from him as he could provide.

"I-I'm sorry," she murmured. "It has been a tiring night."

"We should tell Dumbledore," he then said. "Those bastards cannot stay here at Hogwarts!"

Hermione took a deep breath and slightly pulled away from him. "I will tell the Headmaster, but I think I already know what he'll do," she said. "If the ministry discovers there are Death Eaters in Hogwarts, the Wizarding World will go berserk and Voldemort might be forced to have a wide-scale premature attack. The resistance cannot afford that yet, not when the horcruxes aren't destroyed. It will be too risky and everything I've been trying hard to do will be put to waste."

"You mean to say you'll agree to let those dangerous Death Eaters walk through the corridors in Hogwarts and risk the chance of crossing paths with them again?" Sev had grown furious once again, but Hermione squeezed his arm to mollify him.

"Voldemort wouldn't dare to instigate an attack in Hogwarts," she firmly said. "He couldn't afford that yet. He's still _recruiting_ , Sev. Meaning his army isn't complete yet. He might be a madman, but he's a brilliant strategist."

"Dumbledore won't allow this," he insisted.

Hermione wryly smiled. "His intentions may be righteous, but Dumbledore's a strategist too, Sev," she said. "I've worked alongside him as Hermione Granger. He's willing to risk a few innocent casualties for the cause. _Trust me_."

He looked deeply disturbed by her words.

" _But_ , I'm sure he'll still do whatever it takes to protect Hogwarts," she continued. "I made sure Crouch and Rosier don't remember what happened tonight." She grew worried as she remembered Crouch's words. "But… but I fear for the following days. Crouch said something; he told me I should be prepared. Something big is going to happen."

Hermione fearfully met Sev's equally terrified dark eyes. "I just hope it won't be too soon."

* * *

**June 30, 1979**

Something was horribly wrong.

Her eyes were swimming with tears at the end of her graduation speech, as she smiled sadly at her fellow seventh years. She kept on scanning everywhere just to forever memorise their faces, in case things didn't work out in this timeline either.

But then, when her eyes landed on Regulus, all the Slytherin did was stare blankly at her.

Hermione guessed it must be because he was flanked by Orion and Walburga Black. With his Pureblood, bigoted parents accompanying him, Regulus must continue to keep up appearances. It didn't help that Sirius was somewhere amongst the crowd, boisterously attracting attention whilst interacting with Hermione's family and their friends.

She would have brushed that strange behaviour away, but as her eyes continued to sweep amongst the crowd, she noted that some of her classmates – mostly Slytherins and a few Ravenclaws – were acting very _strangely_. Troublesome expressions were settled on their faces and Hermione had a very bad feeling about it.

Her eyes caught Peter's as she descended the dais. His brows were furrowed in worry, noting the panic-stricken look on her face. "Something's wrong," she mouthed.

Peter's eyes grew steely, his blue eyes now scanning the crowd. His wand was now tightly clutched in his hand, and he slowly raised it as if poised to attack. Beside him, James noticed Peter's sudden change in behaviour. When he looked at Peter, askance, her brother merely jutted his chin towards Hermione. James's expression turned grim at seeing her face.

Hermione sought for Crouch's face amongst the crowd and gave him her darkest glare. This was all _his_ fault. The night they'd cornered her still bothered her, even when Dumbledore reassured her he—and by extension, Regulus— would keep an eye on him and Rosier. As she'd guessed, Dumbledore didn't alert the authorities about the existence of Death Eaters in Hogwarts. Hermione even had this inkling that Dumbledore had always known, if not for the lack of surprise on his face when she'd narrated the encounter she'd had with the Slytherins.

She had been on her toes since that day, surreptitiously eyeing the two Slytherins for any suspicious activity. She'd caught Regulus glaring at her one too many times, wordlessly relaying that she was being very suspicious herself, but Crouch's threat hadn't put her at ease. She knew Dumbledore had appointed Regulus to keep an eye on the two, as he never went anywhere in Hogwarts without them anymore, but Hermione still couldn't stop herself from seeking them out.

She was thoroughly distracted for the rest of the ceremony. Her actions by then were mechanical, clapping when needed and pasting a small smile when addressed. Dumbledore had said another farewell speech and stripped them of their House Colours. Unlike last year, there was no grand firework display nor any kinds of ruckus instigated by infamous pranksters. In fact, Hermione could feel the other guests were on edge, clear anticipation on their faces.

But from what?

The whole ceremony had ended without much of a hitch. Hermione kindly smiled at her classmates as they congratulated her, pulled her into group hugs, and cajoled her to pose with them in photographs. By the time she'd reached Peter and her family, she was flustered and tired.

"What do you mean something's wrong?" he whispered for only her to hear.

Hermione lightly smiled when Sirius and Remus loudly proclaimed how proud they were, and Anya was already listing down all the food she'd prepared for Hermione's graduation feast back home.

"Never mind that," she murmured under her breath. She smiled reassuringly at James when she caught his eyes. "I was wrong." She craned her neck in search of Regulus once more, but said heir was huddled close to his family, his back facing Hermione.

Her family and friends trekked towards the awaiting thestral-drawn carriages. With every step she took, Hermione's troubled heart eased. She mentally cursed Crouch again, believing that his bothersome words had ruined a supposedly happy day for Hermione.

She smiled sweetly at James when he held her hand and helped her climb into the carriage. He did the same with Anya before climbing in with them. Peter, Remus, and Sirius soon followed and as they settled inside, Hermione's bemused eyes twinkled at how ridiculously cramped they were. Sirius, easily the tallest of them all, was hunched over and had succeed in annoying Remus and James by draping his legs over their laps.

"What do you plan on doing now that you're a graduate?" Remus asked, briefly throwing a glare at Sirius.

With the horcrux hunt and the war, Hermione honestly had no idea what she would do with her future. It seemed a tad silly for her to think way ahead of time, when the future was still uncertain. Hermione Granger had already planned a lot of things in her life and look at where she was now.

So, unsure how she would answer his question, Hermione shrugged half-heartedly.

"I think," Sirius declared, "Kitten might be a brilliant Auror."

Hermione grimaced at the same time as Anya did.

"Think about it!" James gushed, obviously delighted at Sirius's suggestion. "You're bloody brilliant with a wand, Hermione. Very disciplined too. Moody would love you. I'm sure of it."

"Much as I appreciate your compliment," Hermione said, nose still wrinkled, "I don't think being an Auror is for me." She'd been through enough battles to last her and her alternate selves a lifetime. Truth be told, Hermione wanted a quiet job for a change, one that would still challenge her brain but put her heart at ease.

"And thank Merlin for that," Anya sighed, prompting her daughter to grin and reach out for her hand.

"Lily and Snape didn't come to your graduation?" Peter then asked, a frown on his face.

Hermione sadly smiled and shook her head. "Lily's swamped with Unspeakable training while Snape's with Slughorn today for a Potion symposium," she said. She fondly remembered Lily's long letter, lamenting how she felt horrible for missing her graduation. Hermione had reassured the redhead that she'd meet up with her and Sev soon, just to catch up and talk about their life so far.

Conversations from then were benign, with the Marauders mostly doing the talking. James and Sirius, the usually boisterous ones, were loudly recounting a disastrous mission they'd had. Peter occasionally interjected to add to their tale, and Hermione was just content that she was with people she cared for the most. Being cooped up in Hogwarts without any idea as to what the true state of the Wizarding World really was, was mighty frustrating for Hermione. At least, with school now out of the way, she could fully focus her attention on bringing Voldemort down.

Soon, they reached the outskirts of Hogwarts' grounds. They all jumped out of the carriage, the other families of the graduates following behind. Hermione took that moment to gaze at Hogwarts in all its glory, a small, sad smile slipping onto her face.

"I'm going to miss you," she breathed out. She then glanced at her hand, which was already being incessantly pulled by James.

"Come on," he urged, his smile wide and blinding. "Anya has prepared a meal that could feed the entire future generation."

Anya softly laughed, having overheard James's words. "That is not true, young man, and you know it," she said.

"Of course, Anya, I was just joking," he retorted with a goofy grin. When Anya looked away and hooked her arm around Peter's, James looked back at Hermione and mouthed 'I'm not really joking'. Hermione snorted and squeezed his hand, allowing him to pull her behind the others.

At the same time, Hermione distractedly heard numerous pops. She craned her neck to watch families eagerly Disapparating as soon as they'd crossed out of Hogwarts' territory. She really, _truly_ wanted to brush off their strange behaviour but then, she was reminded of Crouch's ominous words. It didn't help that the families who had Disapparated almost immediately, were the students who had been acting strangely during graduation.

She tugged James's hand to keep him in place.

"What's wrong?" he asked, knitting his eyebrows in confusion.

Hermione wildly looked around in search of Regulus. A brief flash of silver caught her attention and her blood immediately ran cold when she met Regulus's mercurial eyes, raw fear and guilt in them. Beside him, Walburga spat words against his ear. Regulus tightly clenched his jaw and disappeared with a 'pop'.

Her gaze instantly swept back towards her boyfriend when a hiss slipped pass James's lips. His hand was pressed against his chest, a green glow peeking underneath his collar "What's wrong?" she echoed back. She saw how Peter had considerably paled too and had stopped walking all together, his hand also pressed against his chest, this time a reddish glow underneath. His blue eyes met hers, a grim line on his face.

"What's going on?" Sirius asked, glancing from Peter to James with worry in his eyes.

Before either her brother or James could answer, an incantation she wished to never hear again boomed throughout the crowd.

" _MORSMORDRE_!"

Ominous green bathed the quaint little town of Hogsmeade. Terrified screams escaped from the other wizards and witches while Peter pushed Anya towards Hermione. " _Go_!" he exclaimed, eyes wide with fear and panic. "Apparate!"

Hermione had gone very still, her terrified eyes trained intently on the snake slithering out from the skull in the sky. Anya had grabbed onto her arm and had tried to Apparate away, but her eyes widened and her face turned pale. "They've placed Anti-Apparition wards," Anya faintly cried.

Those within earshot grew horrified and tried to run back towards Hogwarts and its promised protection, but a barrier had been erected between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. Many tried to desperately crack the barrier but this was in vain.

A soft shriek escaped from Hermione's lips when the nearby shop – Scrinvenshaft's – exploded with a resounding bang. Sirius had erected a protective shield around their small group to stop hurtling debris from hitting and injuring them. At the same time, a flurry of silver-masked Death Eaters swarmed into the disturbed town, menacingly throwing dark spells and destroying nearby shops. Hermione's blood ran cold, panic now climbing up from the pit of her stomach, but the adrenaline that rushed through her whole body awakened her nerves. With her war-heightened senses, she pulled out her wand and keenly glanced in all directions, focusing on those who'd try to hurt them. Beside her, Anya had her wand out too, but her mother's hand was shaking terribly, obvious terror on her face.

"We have to alert Dumbledore!" Remus shouted over the growing ruckus.

James firmly nodded his head, took a deep breath and boomed a loud, " _Expecto Patronum_!" Blinding white light shot out from his wand tip and formed a great stag. "Tell Dumbledore there's an attack in Hogsmeade. Go!"

His Patronus galloped away, blessedly able to pass through whatever barrier the Death Eaters had placed between Hogwarts and the town currently being attacked by Death Eaters.

Hermione glanced back at the attacking Death Eaters, mentally counting them to be at least be ten in number or more. Aurors who had been guests at the graduation determinedly strode to the forefront; Peter was already loudly yelling for the civilians to back away and to search for a hiding place.

"Hermione," Anya fearfully said, her death grip around Hermione's right arm already stinging. "We must go."

Truly, she wanted to hide. Her memories as Hermione Granger, running away from danger and fighting by sending precise spells, resurfaced in her mind and almost stole her breath away. The fear she'd felt paralysed her whole, and Hermione knew she was starting to shake.

This was the very same reason why she and Harry had tried to run away. And now, _now_ she was back, standing against these people who'd made her life a living hell, and Hermione didn't know what to do.

Tears prickled her eyes as she darkly glared at the ominous Dark Mark in the sky. The green reminded her of her Harry, determined and brave, despite all of the atrocities and trials around him. The desire to make this place a better world for the future generation, for _Harry_ , surged through ever part of her body, overpowering whatever paralysing fear she had experienced a while ago.

"Go hide with the others, Mum," she tightly whispered.

"Hermione—"

She cracked a weak grin, already pushing her mother towards the clambering crowd. "I will be okay. I promise," she vowed.

Tears were already tumbling down Anya's eyes, already noting the stubborn resolution on her daughter's face. "Let me fight with you then, sweetheart," she softly said.

Hermione's watery eyes widened in horror. "But Mum—"

Whatever she was going to say was drowned by another booming voice. She watched as a silver light shot out from one of the Death Eaters wands, effectively placing a barrier that would separate them from the numerous barrage of multi-coloured spells cast by the Aurors and those who'd chosen to stay and fight.

One of the Death Eaters proudly strode forwards, his wand tip pointed against his neck. "I speak now, directly to those who wish to enter a New Age, where the purest of blood will reign supreme." The spells had ceased, all of them wide-eyed as the Death Eater continued to speak. Hermione tried to decipher his voice, but it was distorted. "The Dark Lord will be merciful to all those who will pledge allegiance."

Deafening silence met his proud proclamation. No one dared move; not even the Death Eaters.

His words rang in Hermione's ears, growing wild and deafening until it was all she could hear. She remembered Crouch's words again, his threat so harsh and ominous it had taken residence in Hermione's brain for the past few days.

_This_ was his warning, and Hermione felt so stupid for brushing it off. Telling Dumbledore wasn't enough because now, the Death Eaters, with magical abilities she knew weren't subpar, had trapped them inside Hogsmeade. The menacing glint from their masks promised they would be unforgiving, and Hermione had this horrible guilt in the pit of her stomach, mentally berating herself for not being more persistent in warning Dumbledore.

' _Dumbledore!'_ she thought, snapping her head over her shoulder to see if James's Patronus was able to relay the message already. There were still wizards and witches trying to break down the barrier erected, hurtling numerous spells, but Hermione couldn't see any sign of Dumbledore, or any of the Hogwarts professors at all.

Her attention was brought back to the Death Eaters when a deafening crack resounded in the whole town. Soon, it was followed by a great shatter as the protective shield they'd placed between them and the others was successfully removed by one of the Aurors. Different explosions of light flashed before her eyes as a battle broke out.

For a moment, Hermione stood wide-eyed and terrified in the middle of the town. People ran past her, almost knocking her over onto the stone floor, and yet, Hermione couldn't force her legs to move. Her breathing had turned shallow, great pants of billowing air escaping from her lips. The Death Eaters were steadily advancing, shooting various spells at the crowd with abandon. The crashing of windows and explosion of debris was soon mingled with terrified screams from the civilians as they desperately waved their wands, protecting themselves from spells so dark they had never heard of them before.

Dirk Creswell's pale face swam into Hermione's vision, his hold on her shoulders tight and almost painful. He was shouting a bunch of words that didn't make sense. Hermione slowly knitted her eyebrows, deciphering his garbled words. And then, Dirk dove onto the ground with Hermione pinned underneath him.

"PETTIGREW, SNAP OUT OF IT!" he hollered as a green light grazed over his dark brown hair.

Hermione took in a deep breath, shaken from her initial paralysing fear, and vigorously nodded her head. She then pushed him away as she immediately scrambled back onto her feet, hurtling a well-aimed Slicing Charm towards the Death Eater who'd almost killed them with the _Avada_. A surprised shriek escaped from his mouth and Hermione watched with grim satisfaction as huge gashes tore his robes open, blood dripping down and painting the ground dark red.

With her head now solely focused on the battle happening in front of her, Hermione's blue eyes swept around the foray. Terrified, she realised her family and friends were nowhere to be found. When had Anya vanished from her side? Where were the others? The flashing spells were blinding and the smoke and dust from various exploded establishments blanketed the whole town in a thick, suffocating fog. It was difficult to see and Hermione had to rely on her other senses, just in case she had to protect herself and attack an enemy.

Hermione forced her feet to start moving, furiously hurtling spells towards any glinting silver that caught her eye.

She stumbled over various debris, even fallen _bodies,_ which she prayed weren't Anya, Peter or James, and continued running.

"Going somewhere, Missy?"

Hermione's blood ran cold. Despite the distorted voice, the inflection and the cackle was unmistakably Bellatrix Lestrange. The witch sent her a violet-coloured spell that was strangely reminiscent of the one Dolohov had sent her back at the Department of Mysteries. Hermione side-stepped it with practiced ease, eternally grateful she'd had her duelling sessions with Regulus as it now proved useful.

Bella growled at how she'd effortlessly dodged her spell, sending a barrage of spells in lightning speed soon after. Hermione produced a powerful protective barrier around herself and it took unimaginable strength to keep the shield erected.

Bella was growing unmerciful, her spells growing darker and more deadly as her frustration heightened. Hermione made a split-second decision to barrel roll on the ground, choosing to be momentarily vulnerable without her shield.

"Feisty, feisty," the Death Eater hissed. "Why don't you join us, little girl? The Dark Lord will take care of you."

A dark scowl appeared on Hermione's face. "Never! _SECTUSEMPRA_!" she boomed, still pressed close to the ground, and almost screamed at how it missed Bella's form. The Death Eater laughed at her expense and stalked closer, her silver mask becoming more menacing with every step she took.

Hermione took a deep, shuddering breath, calmed her haywire nerves, and surreptitiously pointed her wand at her. _'Expelliarmus!'_ she thought with such determination, such _clarity_ , and it gave her a brief sense of triumph when she caught Bellatrix off guard. Her wand flew away from her hand and Hermione immediately jumped onto her feet, deftly catching it mid-air.

Then, without blinking, she gave Bella her darkest glare and broke her wand into two. Bellatrix shrieked bloody murder and tried to tackle her, but she suddenly toppled down, face first on the ground.

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise, meeting gleaming hazel across the foray. James looked thunderous and terrified at the same time. His robes were half-ripped and one of the lenses in his glasses was cracked. He sported a busted lip and there was a huge gash on his cheek. But other than those small wounds and his state of disarray, he looked marvellously well.

"Hermione!" he choked out. "Are you okay? _Fuck_. Are you? Are you hurt?"

Tears filled her eyes, feeling relief, fear and other various emotions all at the same time. "I'm fine!" she reassured, already slashing her wand to hex an advancing Death Eater behind James. "Fight! Go! I'm fine!"

James looked hesitant, but a sudden explosion separated her from him. Hermione started to run around, praying to all the cosmic powers above that the people she cared about would be safe.

Hermione wasn't sure for how long the battle had been raging. All she knew was that she had to _fight fight fight_ until her body was raw and aching. She'd blessedly caught up with Anya after fighting a lone Death Eater. Her mother looked glorious with her voluminous hair and harsh wand-waving. It had disoriented Hermione a bit how her sweet mother could look absolutely terrifying, but then again, this was _Anastasia Selwyn_. Her temper could bring a whole house down. The fear in Anya's eyes was unmistakable, though, and Hermione hurried forwards to help her mother.

"Hermione!" she cried, flying into Hermione's arms and expelling a few sobs. "Oh, sweetheart. You're okay. I was so _worried_. You were—"

Both witches flinched as a deafening crack resounded throughout the battlefield. Hermione watched, wide-eyed, as the protective barrier the Death Eaters had erected between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade was destroyed.

"ENOUGH!" a booming voice commanded. The dust cleared and Albus Dumbledore came, his face hardened with a certain fierceness. Behind him, the Hogwarts Professors stood, flicking their wrists in various directions to help with the fight. A few of the Order members were there too, noting Moody and Kingsley among the new batch of people.

One Death Eater caught Hermione's eye and his wand raised upward. He snarled a spell and there was a shimmer overhead. Then, one-by-one, the Death Eaters started to Apparate away.

"Don't let them get away!" Moody snarled, running forward together with the Aurors behind him. He was able to tackle one Death Eater, who was now thrashing wildly on the ground.

More pops were heard as the civilians caught in the crossfire hastily left. Hermione searched around, trying to see how many casualties were left from the battle, but then, her vision was obscured by sandy hair.

"Are you all right?" Peter asked, wide-eyed.

"Yes, Peter," she feebly replied, squeezing him to reassure him.

Peter pulled away and also drew Anya into a hug, their mother already a sobbing mess as she clung to her brother.

"PETTIGREW!"

The whole family snapped their necks towards Moody's direction. "Just the boy," he corrected, his blue eyes turning steely. "What are you doing there? Scour the perimeter! We need to make sure there are no lurking Death Eaters around."

"Y-yes, sir," Peter said, reluctantly pulling himself away from Anya and Hermione.

Moody's eyes flashed. "What was that, Pettigrew?" he gruffly asked.

"Yes, sir!" he repeated, this time with incredible firmness. With one last look at his family, he Disapparated to follow his orders.

"As for you two," he said, his voice mellowing, "I think it's best if you return to Hogwarts. There's a makeshift infirmary in the Great Hall. You should get those injuries of yours checked."

"Thank you, Alastor," Anya faintly said, already grabbing onto Hermione's hand to tug her towards the direction of the school.

Hermione blindly followed Anya, occasionally squeezing her mother's hand just to convince herself they were both safe and very much alive.

Before they crossed over the threshold between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, an anguished cry caught their attention. Both Anya and Hermione stopped walking to look at the source, only to see a witch – a _mother_ – bent over a boy with empty eyes staring heavenward.

The brunette thickly swallowed, recognising him as Elias Somerhaulder, a student newly graduated from Gryffindor. She remembered he was one of Dirk Cresswell's close friends, often accompanying him when Hermione held her tutoring sessions in the Head's Dormitory.

Anya started to silently cry once more, heart going out to the poor mother. Tears also swam in Hermione's vision, imagining the dead boy, bearing faces of people she had come to love in this world.

Hermione steeled herself and tightly closed her eyes.

No one was going to die under Voldemort's mercy again. _No one_. She would make sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omfg this chapter is finally posted. I hate writing action-heavy chapters, even though I know it's for the plot lmao. Tbh, this chapter wasn't part of my original outline; in fact, I've imagined a whole different scenario than the Hogsmeade attack. But blessedly, my Beta caught a huge plot hole and helped me remedy that through various discussions hahaha. That being said, I know that Hogwarts is basically under Dumbledore's protection and Death Eaters cannot just barge in the school. I've tried to research if such protection is extended to Hogsmeade, but in the books, Dumbledore and Harry Apparated in Hogsmeade from the Cave and flew to Hogwarts using a broomstick, so maybe not haha.
> 
> I know y'all itching for more Jamione fluff but please, please, please be patient with me hahaha. I really need to develop the plot.
> 
> Well, that's it. This chapter ends Hermione's 7th year, so the following chapters are now with our heroine out and about in the outside world ahahha.
> 
> See you tomorrow!
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes)!


	42. chapter forty-one

* * *

**xxxxi.**

_**in the middle of it all, it's nobody's fault** _

(Uncharted by Sara Bareilles)

* * *

**July 1, 1979**

Breakfast the next day was a silent affair in the Pettigrew household. With Peter still away sorting out the whole fiasco back at Hogsmeade, Hermione found her mother tensely preparing breakfast for the both of them. Anya had fiercely hugged Hermione when she'd come inside, obviously afraid of what had transpired yesterday and relieved at the same time that her daughter was well.

"I'm fine, Mum," she reassured, patting her rich, golden brown curls with a small smile. "How about you?" She lightly pulled away to gaze at her mother, blue eyes roaming around in search of injuries Madame Pomfrey may have missed yesterday.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," Anya echoed. Hermione noted there were forming tears in her mother's eyes as the older witch tucked a curl behind her ear. "What an awful way to graduate," she said, directing Hermione onto one of the chairs to sit her down. "My heart goes out to that poor, _poor_ family."

Her smile fell as she glanced at the new edition of the Daily Prophet. Splattered on the front page was the image of the Dark Mark hovering ominously over Hogsmeade. Explosions from nearby shops and raining debris decorated the quaint little town. It was disconcerting to see because Hogsmeade was just outside of Hogwarts' grounds, a supposed safe place for _everybody_. Hermione still hadn't read the whole article, but she was able to recognise the dismay, distrust, and disappointment of terrified parents, demanding how in Merlin's name the Death Eaters were able to infiltrate Hogsmeade. There was a small picture of Dumbledore beside the photograph, solemnly blinking at the camera, his lips drawn taut with graveness.

Blessedly, the Daily Prophet didn't show the death of Elias Somerhalder, the Gryffindor seventh year who was the sole person who'd died during the Hogsmeade attack. The memory of his mother's anguished cries echoed in Hermione's ears and she was unable to suppress a horrified shiver.

Her eyes watered as she glanced at the Dark Mark once more, seemingly mocking her at the nearing height of the First Wizarding War. "No one was supposed to die," she whispered, her fingers brushing against the Dark Mark, before curling her hands into a tight fist. "No one will die anymore."

Anya reached forward to draw soothing circles on her knuckles until Hermione uncurled her fist. "Thanks, Mum," she murmured, drawing as much comfort as she could from the woman who did nothing but love her.

"None of this right now," Anya decided, grasping onto the newspaper and hiding it from sight. "We must eat breakfast!"

Hermione lightly smiled and stood up from the stool she was sitting on, only to jog to the other side so she could sit down beside Anya.

"Peter still didn't say if he's coming home tonight?" Anya asked, already placing scrambled eggs, strips of bacon and bread on Hermione's plate.

She sadly shook her head. "I haven't heard from him since he left for his Auror duties yesterday," she replied. When Anya frowned with worry, Hermione patted her hand reassuringly. "I'm sure he'll be fine, Mum. Peter always comes home."

Anya sighed. "Of course, love," she said.

**-ooo-**

Later that night, as Hermione bid her mother goodnight, she sat on her desk while staring at a constructed letter for Regulus. She'd already sent him a letter last night, asking if he was all right, but the Black heir hadn't sent a reply. She remembered his terrified eyes, and Hermione didn't doubt he'd known of the Hogsmeade attack prior to the attack itself.

"Toffee," she called. The owl hooted in acknowledgement and landed on top of her desk. "Send this to Regulus Black." She thoughtfully tied the parchment around her leg. "Nip him on his fingers if he still stubbornly refuses to reply to my letter."

The tawny owl hooted before flying out her window. At the same time, a knock from her bedroom door caught her attention.

"It's open!" she called.

Her door creaked open and Peter peeked inside. "Hi," he greeted.

"Peter!" she exclaimed, already flying towards her brother to give him a huge hug. "You're back."

He snorted at her enthusiastic greeting and patted her back. "It's about time, honestly," he grumbled, already pulling away from Hermione to plop down on her bed.

She hovered over him, noting signs of exhaustion on his face. Peter was still in his casual Auror robes, with dark bruises under his eyes and a deep frown on his face. There were a few scratches on his face, but all in all, he was well. A lump formed in her throat as she sat down beside him, worry painted in her blue eyes.

"What happened?"

Peter expelled a sigh and slowly looked at Hermione. "We weren't able to catch any of the Death Eaters, except for the one Moody pinned down," he regretfully informed. "Bloody bastards really planned everything through. Moody's enraged because they created the Anti-Apparition wards and the barrier separating Hogwarts from Hogsmeade." He sighed in exhaustion once more and rubbed his temples. "We spent the whole morning interviewing the shopkeepers in Hogsmeade, but _all_ of them swore there wasn't any shady activity prior to the attack. Suffice to say, everybody was bloody surprised."

Hermione frowned. "But the Death Eater Moody caught," she deliberately continued, "what happened to him?"

A large scowl tore on her brother's face. "We identified him as someone called Avery," he explained. "But… but _damn it_ , before we could interrogate him about the other Death Eaters, he offed himself."

She pressed her lips into a thin line. She tried to recall Avery, a vague image of his face conjuring inside her mind. Hermione remembered facing him in the Department of Mysteries when she was in fifth year. Truth be told, however, she wasn't surprised he'd chosen to kill himself before divulging any secrets of Voldemort.

He shifted on Hermione's bed so that his body would be fully facing her. "Moody tried to interrogate us to see if we recognised some of the Death Eaters during the Hogsmeade attack," he deliberately continued. "But, their faces were covered by masks and their voices were distorted."

Hermione noted the odd look on his face. " _But_?" she insisted, having an inkling that Peter wasn't finished yet.

"But… Prongs found a lead," he said. His blue eyes met Hermione's, a grave look on his face. "One of them was Bellatrix Lestrange. He was _sure_ of it. Once the battle had ceased and the Death Eaters fled, we scoured the rubble and found a broken wand among the foray. After verifying it at the ministry, we found out it was registered to Bellatrix."

The brunette thickly swallowed, memories of the crazed woman's brutal attack resurfacing in her mind.

"Although we cannot prove that she really was there – because, you know, one Death Eater might have used her wand even though she wasn't present during the battle – Moody thought it was a solid lead."

"So… you're investigating her now?"

Peter grimaced and huffed out a sigh. "We need a warrant to interrogate her," he said. "But, we found out she's been out of the country with her husband for two weeks now. Not exactly a solid alibi, but still an _alibi_. Moody warned us to tread carefully because she's still part of a powerful family."

"Well, that's terribly convenient," she sneered, not doubting that they'd really prepared themselves for the inevitable attack. She thoughtfully nibbled her bottom lip and frowned. "One of Voldemort's horcrux was housed in the Lestrange vault, though. Maybe you can use that?"

"Voldemort and his followers don't even know we've already discovered his horcruxes," Peter pointed out. "I'm sure it's Dumbledore's well-guarded secret as of now. We can't use that against them."

Hermione sighed in disappointment, although she wasn't surprised by his reasoning.

"That's not the only weird thing, though."

She snapped her gaze back towards her brother, question in her eyes. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"The professors made a head count post-attack," he explained. "And… well, we know that some of the civilians Disapparated as soon as the Death Eaters removed the Anti-Apparition Wards, but _prior to the attack_ …"

Hermione grimly nodded her head. "A lot of families disappeared, I know," she whispered. "I… I saw Regulus Disapparating with his family. And Crouch and Rosier."

"Death Eaters, yes," Peter gravely said, making a face. "Everybody in the DMLE knew it was mighty suspicious, but compared to Bellatrix's broken wand, that wasn't solid evidence at all. Moody explained they might just be lucky bastards, able to get away at the right time."

The brunette gave a deep breath and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I knew it," she murmured. "I knew that something was wrong. I should have… I should have _persisted._ I should have gone to Dumbledore the moment I had a bad feeling about it all. I should have—"

"Stop."

She glanced back at Peter with wide eyes. His gaze was firm and steely. "It's not your fault," he ground out. "Not even in the slightest! You didn't even know something will happen."

Hermione turned away her from Peter, guilt colouring her face. "Well…"

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw how her older brother stiffened in alarm. "Hermione," he lowly said, blue eyes narrowing in suspicion.

She took a deep breath, knowing it was useless to deny it. "A few months before the attack, I received a letter." Her blue eyes pierced him meaningfully. " _The_ letter."

Peter's eyes widened as his face completely drained with colour. "And you didn't tell us? _Me_?" he accused. "Hermione! You promised that you'd owl us immediately if something came up with you over Hogwarts. Receiving a recruitment letter from Voldemort and his bloody fucking minions is a 'something'."

"It wasn't a big deal at that time," she weakly protested, flinching a bit when a scowl appeared on Peter's face. "You and your friends had received a letter prior to your graduation, so I brushed it off at first. But… but a few months after, I had an encounter. With Crouch and Rosier."

"What did they do?" he thundered.

"I got away unscathed," she explained, just to appease her furious brother. "They were… they were trying to recruit me but I refused. _Obviously_."

"Obviously," he echoed with wide eyes.

"But… but Crouch gave an ominous warning," she grumbled under her breath. "For the record, I told Dumbledore about it but… but I didn't know it was going to be an attack in Hogsmeade. And now – well – _somebody_ died and I should have—"

She clamped her lips as her eyes slightly watered. "Elias… I used to tutor him for his NEWTs," she whispered. "He was a really rowdy boy but he was diligent. If I had just been more careful, perhaps no one would have died that day."

Peter's face hardened, taking a few deep breaths until he'd finally calmed down. "It wasn't your fault," he then sighed. "I _am_ mad that you didn't tell us about your encounter with Crouch and Rosier, but I'm sure you didn't know this will happen. Well… did _you_ even know this would happen? Have you ever heard from a lecture or read from a book about the attack of Death Eaters in Hogsmeade in the year 1979?"

She grew silent and thoughtfully chewed on her lip. She'd tried to rack her brain, recalling everything Professor Binns had lectured in History of Magic. She also tried to recall any passages or newspaper clippings about this attack, but Hermione couldn't remember anything like this before. This was huge news, after all. It'd managed to decorate the front page of the Daily Prophet.

Worriedly, she shook her head. "I've never heard nor read about this," she replied. "It's—" She thickly swallowed and glanced at her brother, clear terror painted on her face. "What if… what if everything I knew in the future will never come to fruition?"

She remembered Sev's words, of how her mere presence had already made a huge ripple effect in this timeline. Her knowledge of the future was an _asset_ , a leverage they could use to defeat Voldemort. But, with new events coming up that had never happened before, Hermione was afraid that despite her knowledge, all would be futile.

Peter immediately engulfed her into a tight hug. "No matter what happens, we will make sure that Voldemort will _die_ ," he vehemently proclaimed. "Your knowledge of Voldemort's downfall still proved to be very valuable, Hermione. Even Dumbledore suddenly became optimistic that we will win this war, because we now know about Voldemort's horcruxes." He pulled away to give her a firm stare. "Voldemort will die."

Hermione took a deep, shuddering breath, her resolve growing firmer once more.

"Voldemort will die."

* * *

**July 2, 1979**

"Where are you both going, sweethearts?"

Both Peter and Hermione stilled on the spot and briefly exchanged panicked glances.

Early that morning, Dumbledore had sent them a letter inviting them to a meeting of official Order of the Phoenix members that night. He hadn't said what the meeting would be about, but Hermione could already guess it was about the horcrux hunt. Seeing that she and Regulus were finally graduate students, it was time for them to start searching for the last horcrux and to destroy them once and for all.

"Um," Hermione started, pasting a smile on her face as she looked at a suspicious Anya. "Lily wanted me to come over to Spinner's End to help her with wedding preparations. Did you know she and Sev already plan to get married at the end of July?"

"Oh," Anya said, suspicion melting into delighted surprise. "That is lovely! Tell Lily if she needs help, she can ask me too."

"Will do, Mum," she said.

Anya's eyes then settled on Peter. "And you?"

Peter gave her a sheepish grin. "Auror stuff, Mum. You know the drill," he said. "The Hogsmeade attack's still stressing out the whole DMLE. Moody needed as many Aurors as he could."

The older witch expelled a huge sigh and crossed the carpeted floor to reach her children. "You're barely home," she lamented. "Hermione just graduated and Peter, your always away with work. What is your poor mother to do?"

"Oh, Mum," Hermione said, reaching forward to envelop her into a hug. "I'll try to spend as much time with you as possible. I still haven't decided what to do, you see. After Lily and Sev's wedding, I'm going to start searching for a job for myself."

Anya placed a kiss on her temple. "My children are all grown up," she said with a sad smile. "I hope you'll never forget your mother even when you've become too busy with your lives."

"That's not going to happen, Mum," Peter said with an indulgent smile.

"We really have to go, though," Hermione said, reluctantly pulling away from Anya. "Make sure all the doors are locked and the wards are properly erected." After the attack, Hermione made sure to put more wards to protect her home, especially with Anya mostly left alone in their house.

Anya smiled at her in bemusement. "Don't worry about me," she said, already making shooing motions with her hand. "Be careful out there, my loves."

The Pettigrew siblings bid their mother goodbye and walked out of their house. Peter and Hermione's smiles fell into a grim line as they approached the Apparition spot.

"I didn't know we could already apparate into Potter Manor," she quipped. "Come to think of it, I've always wondered how you were able to apparate us into James's bedroom that night. He did say their wards are built using ancient magic. Old Purebloods like them tend to set up Anti-Apparition wards around their houses."

"We're close friends with the Potters," Peter explained. "Fleamont managed to rearrange the wards to recognise our magical cores. It's handier, especially since the Order Headquarters is at the Potter Manor."

"Isn't that a bit dangerous?" Hermione worriedly asked.

Peter lightly shrugged. "You've said it yourself – the Potters are Old Pureblood, warded by ancient magic. Only the Potter Patriarchs know the wards placed around the Manor. It's a well-kept secret, passed down from generation to generation. James once speculated that, like his Invisibility Cloak, some of the wards placed were invented by his ancestors. So, Apparating into the Manor would be a difficult feat, unless the Potter Patriarch gives his blessing."

She marginally calmed down, knowing that Peter might be right. She wordlessly followed as he Apparated on the spot. Hermione reappeared at the imposing door in front of the Potter Manor with Peter just a few paces away from her.

"Come on," he said, grasping onto her arm and pulling her away from the door. "The entrance to the Headquarters is this way."

Hermione rapidly blinked in surprise, noticing the tower standing on the east side of the Manor. It looked exactly like the painting she'd seen back at the Manor, with the tower a detached structure from the main house. It was taller than wide, with a small burgundy turret placed on the top. There were a few oval windows in the stone walls with light from inside already streaming out.

Peter knocked a rhythm on the door, which magically swung open to let them in. He then pulled Hermione with him and she almost backpedalled at the amount of people inside. There was a handsome, circular mahogany table right at the very centre of the tower. From the painted ceiling hung a glinting chandelier. Hermione's eyes widened at the huge banner of a fiery phoenix, decorated with glittering gold that shimmered every time the embroidered bird flapped its wings. Besides the huge table and the roaring flame, there wasn't any other furniture inside. It looked definitely like a meeting place, where people gathered around the table as equals, exchanging ideas that would help bring Voldemort's tyranny down.

Her brother spied Remus and Sirius amongst the crowd and pulled a stunned Hermione through the throngs of people. She wasn't able to survey her surroundings any further, as Sirius and Remus quickly engulfed her in a huge hug, obscuring her vision.

"Are you all right, kitten?" Sirius asked, surveying her from head to toe. "Your graduation was _shite_."

"Thanks, Sirius," she sarcastically quipped. Her expression softened when she saw Remus's worried look. "But I'm fine. I only had some minor injuries." She breathed a sigh of relief when she noticed that both Sirius and Remus looked well, too.

"Have you heard from Reggie?" the shaggy-haired Auror asked, his eyebrows furrowed with concern. "I wanted to contact him, but the bloke's forbade me from reaching out to him unless it's an emergency."

Hermione shook her head. "I sent him a letter last night but he didn't reply," she said. "I sent another letter this morning, but I still haven't heard anything from him."

Sirius looked deeply troubled, prompting Hermione to slightly smile. "He wasn't in Hogmseade when the Death Eaters attacked."

The shaggy-haired Auror lightly snorted. "Yeah, well, Disapparating with Mummy and Daddy dearest as soon as they passed through the Hogwarts wards was mighty suspicious," he pointed out.

"I'll try to contact him again," she assured. Sirius's face crumpled momentarily, before he pulled himself together and gave her a clipped nod.

Her worry for Regulus bloomed once more and she hoped he'd appear in this meeting. Hermione would be damned if the Black heir continued to avoid them.

Hermione's eyes swept through the small crowd, trying to see if Regulus was already present. When she noted that his impeccable hair was nowhere in sight, she searched around for her boyfriend instead. "Where's James?"

"Prongs will come soon," Sirius reassured. "He's just finishing some reports for Moody."

Hermione absentmindedly nodded her head, her eyes scanning the growing crowd for the umpteenth time inside the east tower. There were perhaps less than twenty people inside, faces she'd recognised from a picture Harry had showed to her after the establishment of Dumbledore's Army.

The Marauders pulled Hermione and toured her around, introducing her to the other members of the Order. She met Benjy Fenwick, a ministry employee working under the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures; Dorcas Meadowes, a snarky, intimidating Auror, whom she recognised as the person Voldemort had personally killed; Edgar Bones who resembled the Susan Bones she knew. Her mouth ran dry when she was introduced to the Longbottoms. Hermione had seen both Frank and Alice Longbottom back at Hogwarts, but she'd never really interacted with them since they were three years her senior. Frank was the perfect replica of Neville Longbottom, but Alice shared Neville's smile. She also met the Prewett twins, whose uncanny resemblance with Fred and George Weasley made Hermione's head spin. She unwittingly remembered Fred's untimely death and the devastated look on George's face. She also recognised familiar, younger versions of people she'd interacted with in the future such as Mundungus Fletcher and Sturgis Podmore.

Lily and Sev came soon after, with the former engulfing Hermione in a huge hug. "Are you all right?" the Unspeakable worriedly asked.

Hermione squeezed her back and reached for Sev's arm, noting the worry in his eyes. "I'm all right," she reassured. "I only had minor injuries from the attack. Other than that, I'm quite well, Lils."

Lily hadn't let go of Hermione, even when Moody and James finally came inside. Hermione's heart lurched, noticing the healing cuts on James's face. His eyes quickly scanned the roomful of people and once they landed on her, he breathed out a sigh of relief as he broke into a small smile.

"Go on," her best friend whispered, letting go of Hermione fully and shoving her towards James. The wizard was already meandering through the crowd and when Hermione met him in the middle, she allowed him to pull her close for a tight hug.

"Are you all right?" he asked, worry thick in his voice.

"I think you're the third person to ask me that," she said with a soft chuckle.

"I saw you… with the Death Eater, yesterday. You were—" He swallowed thickly as his hazel eyes glinted with mild terror. "I'm not sure if Wormtail already told you, but the wand you broke yesterday belonged to Bellatrix Lestrange." His grip on her tightened. "Sirius's _crazy_ cousin. She's terrifying, Whiskers. You could have… um…"

Hermione lightly smirked and met his eyes. "Good thing I'm equally terrifying, eh?" she joked, just to soothe his worry.

James's eyes widened at her quip, but then he sputtered out a soft laugh. "Yes. Yes, you are," he agreed with a lopsided smile.

"But _you_ , on the other hand…" She cradled his face with her hands, lips magnetising into a small frown as she traced the scars.

James clutched her hand and pulled her towards where their friends were. "I'm fine, love," he reassured, although a grimace appeared on his face. "I was able to corner one Death Eater, but he slipped away in the end. Bloody git put up one hell of a fight."

He clasped arms with Remus when they reached the Marauders, obvious relief in their eyes since their small group was still complete. James smiled at Lily in greeting and stiffly nodded his head to acknowledge Severus.

Mary and Marlene soon arrived. The former immediately flew into Peter's arms, exchanging whispered words and remaining oblivious to everybody in the room. Marlene stiffly greeted the others and stood as far away from them as possible.

Hermione glanced at Sirius, quirking an eyebrow in question. The shaggy-haired Auror blushed and scratched his chin. "Eh, it wasn't working anymore," was his flippant dismissal.

It was a few more minutes before Dumbledore finally arrived. The whole room fell to a hush as his imposing figure strode inside, Regulus Black not too far behind. Hermione smiled, relieved that Regulus was well and he was going to attend this meeting. She tried to meet his eyes, but Regulus was resolutely glancing at his feet, his discomfort palpable.

"What is he doing here?" Gideon – or Fabian? – Prewett asked, pulling out his wand and threateningly pointing it in Regulus's direction. His twin copied his stance, wand poised in the air.

"Wands away, lads," Moody drawled, already pulling out a chair to sit on the circular table. "He's a member of the Order."

"He is?" Dorcas Meadowes asked, her lips curled in disdain. "But I thought he was one of those vile snakes."

Regulus paled, still firmly staring at his feet.

"Everybody in this room is officially a member of the Order of the Phoenix," Dumbledore softly replied, although the tone of his voice hinted a certain firmness that commanded respect. "Everybody in this room has my utmost trust."

No one made a peep as he sat on a chair, the roaring fireplace with the phoenix banner right behind his imposing figure. The other members of the Order hesitantly chose a place to sit. Hermione was crammed in between Lily and James, the latter steadfastly holding her hand under the table.

Once everybody was settled, Dumbledore's gleaming eyes swept over everybody in the room. Regulus sat on his left side, looking mighty uncomfortable, with his back ramrod straight, his indifferent mask hiding whatever emotions he was feeling right now.

Behind Dumbledore, the phoenix flapped its wings and Hermione admittedly stared. With the fireplace directly underneath the banner, it looked like the phoenix was aflame.

"I have called for this meeting," Dumbledore started, "because we have a very important matter to discuss."

Hermione tore her eyes away from the distracting banner to look at the Headmaster.

The old wizard calmly laced his fingers together and sadly smiled at the Order. "The attack at Hogsmeade yesterday was most unfortunate, but it just proves that Tom is becoming restless, _bolder_ , and we must do something now in order to stop him." He paused, his blue eyes twinkling impossibly bright behind his half-moon spectacles, then continued. "Thankfully, however, we have finally found his ultimate downfall."

He quipped the last sentence with such a merry tone, that Hermione had to try her hardest to suppress a snort.

"It has recently come to my attention that Voldemort has been making horcruxes to achieve immortality." He paused once more as horrified gasps erupted around the table. There were those who looked confused, unfamiliar with the dark magic.

"For the benefit of those who do not know what a horcrux is," he continued, "these are artifacts made by an evil wizard, housing a piece of his or her soul. Only when an act most evil – _murder_ , simply put – is committed, the fractured piece of soul may be transferred into another object. The caster will only be defeated if each horcrux is destroyed. In Tom's case, I'm afraid he has already made five."

"Five!" Edgar Bones exclaimed. "Merlin Almighty."

"But fear not, for we already have four in our possession," Dumbledore calmly reassured. "And the last one's location is known, I believe."

"How do you know about this, Albus?" Elphias Doge, a wizard Hermione recognised was part of the Wizengamot.

Dumbledore's eyes briefly landed on hers. "A reliable source," he vaguely replied.

"Forgive me, brother," a redheaded wizard, with a beard as long as Dumbledore's and eyes the same shade of blue, drawled. "But you're shite when it comes to trusting sources."

Hermione's eyes widened, instantly recognising him as Aberforth Dumbledore, the Headmaster's younger brother. She hadn't stepped foot in the Hog's Head for the last seven years, since she'd never found it necessary to do so, but she could still remember the cranky barman of the pub.

The Headmaster quirked an amused eyebrow at his younger brother. "Ah, but you see, Aberforth, I truly trust this source," he said with an indulgent smile.

"And you're quite sure Voldemort has horcruxes?" Dorcas worriedly asked.

"Positively sure," he said. His eyes swept towards Benjy Fenwick, his smile faltering a bit. "Which is why I need your help, Benjy. It has also come to my attention that Hogwarts has been housing a dormant basilisk for centuries."

"A basilisk?!" one of the Prewett twins exclaimed, followed by a loud expletive that earned them a glare from Moody.

"Yes, a basilisk," Dumbledore repeated. "Destroying a horcrux can be a tricky, little thing. There are only a few ways to do it, such as Fiendfyre and basilisk venom. Seeing that a basilisk is sleeping in the castle, with a possibility of being awakened and endangering the students, I believe killing the basilisk and procuring its venom is the wisest choice. I can trust you to lead the defeat of the creature, Benjy, can I?"

The wizard sat up straighter in his seat, a determined look on his face. "Of course, Albus," he said.

"Very good," he answered with a nod. "I was hoping to face the basilisk before the start of the next school-year just in case the basilisk puts up a fight. We'll coordinate to suit your schedule, Benjy."

Benjy nodded his head, concurring with Dumbledore's words.

"As for the last horcrux," his eyes landed on Hermione once more, "I would like to appoint Miss Hermione Pettigrew and young Regulus Black as the leaders of the search."

Predictably, sounds of protests echoed around the table. "They are _children_ ," Dorcas insisted, thrusting her finger on top of the mahogany table to prove a point. "We are talking about horcruxes here, Albus. They are _vile_ things and freshly graduated wizards and witches should not handle such danger."

"There are far more experienced people in this group," Fabian – or _Gideon_ , honestly – quipped. "For example, my brother and I." His eyes gleamed, seemingly excited at the prospect of an adventure. "Let us locate it instead."

Hermione's hold on James's hand tightened, afraid that Dumbledore would relent to their wishes. She'd be damned if she and Regulus weren't the ones to procure the final horcrux. Hermione knew she wouldn't rest easy if she didn't see the horcrux herself and deliver it straight to Dumbledore. If the Headmaster broke his promise and gave this task to another, Hermione had already planned on defying his orders and accompanying the others.

"Hermione and Regulus have proven to be more than capable of handling this task," he then said, surprising Hermione. His blue eyes twinkled when he smiled at her. "But you are both right: they are still young and this mission is quite dangerous. Which is why I will assign capable people to accompany them. I'd still like to coordinate with your schedules and those assigned will be informed immediately." The others looked like they wanted to protest once more, but Dumbledore pinned them with a resolute stare. "My decision is final."

The brunette soundlessly sighed in relief. She briefly met Regulus's eyes across the table, noting the relief in his too, but he gazed away again.

"Now, does anyone want to raise any concerns?"

The succeeding hours of the meeting happened in a blur. Hermione's head was already aching, filled with new information and problems such as dwindling supplies, building safe houses, and increasing attacks of Death Eaters. By the time Dumbledore adjourned the meeting, with a warning that the pinnacle was approaching and they must all get ready, there was already a horde of stampeding hippogriffs in Hermione's head.

"Are you okay, love?" James whispered, leaning closer to Hermione to peer at her with worry in his eyes.

"Just a headache," she reassured, already massaging her throbbing temples.

James hauled her up onto her feet. "Better to go home and rest then," he said. "Although, I think you're going home alone tonight."

Hermione snorted, seeing her brother still wrapped tightly around Mary. "They haven't seen each other for a while," she said. "Mum will understand."

" _I_ haven't seen you for a while," he insisted, tugging her close just so he could wrap an arm around her waist. "Maybe you'd like to sleepover? Pokey can fix your guest room. _Or_ , better yet, you can sneak into my room. You've seen how vast my bed is. You'd fit there perfectly, Whiskers."

Her cheeks reddened at his teasing smirk. "Shut up, Potter," she grumbled.

James softly laughed and dropped a kiss on the crown of her head. "Worth a try," he said. His hazel eyes softened as he skimmed his nose against her cheek. "But I really miss you, Hermione. If Moody will give me a day off, will you allow me to spend that day with you?"

"Rather than sleep the day away?"

He pressed his soft lips against her cheek. "Maybe napping beside you will be a very good date," he joked. " _But_ , I don't think I'll be able to resist doing something untoward if you cuddle yourself beside me, so maybe a coffee date will suffice."

He playfully nipped her earlobe and laughingly dodged her pointy elbow.

She was about to retort something snarky, but her eyes briefly landed on Regulus, who was about to slither out of the East Tower.

"I— sorry, I have to talk to Regulus."

James lips tugged into a small frown. "Okay," he said, a tad stiffly.

Hermione smiled and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek. "I'll give you a good night kiss if you promised to be a good boy," she teasingly whispered against his ear. His hold around her waist tightened as his breath slightly hitched, before James finally loosened his grip and allowed her to slip away from his grasp.

The brunette immediately shot out of the East Tower and called for Regulus. The Black heir was close to Apparating, but then stiffened when he heard her voice. He slowly turned around, a cautious look on his face.

"Pettigrew," he coolly greeted.

Hermione frowned and stomped closer to him. "You didn't reply to my letters," she accused.

"I was busy," he sniped, hiding behind his perfect mask of aloofness.

"You're doing it again!" she exclaimed with a scowl. "Hiding behind that bloody mask." When Regulus glowered at her words, Hermione sighed and reached forward to place a hand on his arm. "What is really the matter, Regulus?" Her gaze softened in understanding, her hold on his arm tightening. "Is it… is it because of what happened during our graduation?"

An angry flicker in his grey eyes was the answer she needed. "Regulus—"

" _No_ , you won't understand," he stiffly said, already pulling his arm away from her grip.

Hermione stood her ground and glared at him through angry eyes. "Try me, Regulus Black," she spat.

Ire shattered his mask and Regulus started breathing heavily. She patiently waited as he tried to compose himself, watching as his hands violently shook. Her annoyance simmered into concern, prompting her to reach out once more to squeeze his arm in comfort.

"I _knew_ something huge would happen, but seeing that I'm one of the new ones, I wasn't privy to the whole plan," he snarled. "I told Dumbledore that something might happen, and he agreed to alert the Aurors in case something came up." Regulus had grown thunderous. "I should have worked _harder_. I'm a bloody fucking spy! I should have pried more, should have discovered what they were planning, just to avoid the attack."

He took a deep shuddering breath and slumped forward, seemingly tired all of a sudden. "No one was supposed to die."

Hermione's heart lurched, realising that Regulus was most likely blaming himself for the death of the Gryffindor. "It wasn't your fault," she grounded out. "How could you even blame yourself?"

His eyes glistened under the pale moon sky, prompting Hermione to reach forward and wrap her arms around him. "It wasn't your fault," she ground out once again. Regulus crumpled the back material of her blouse, trying to grasp as much comfort as he could from her.

She wasn't sure how long they stayed like that. Hermione continued to rub soothing circles on his back. She waited until Regulus had finally relaxed before pulling away from the embrace. His cheeks were splattered with red from embarrassment. "Sorry about that," he murmured, unable to meet her eyes.

"It's all right," she said with a reassuring smile.

Regulus hesitantly met her eyes and sadly smiled. "Merlin, I didn't know I needed that," he said, a hollow laugh escaping from his lips. "I— thanks, Pettigrew."

She rolled her eyes. "Please, aren't we already on first name basis?" she asked. "It'll seriously be confusing if you continue to call me that, especially if my brother's in the room too."

His smile grew wide and genuine. " _Fine_ , blimey."

"You're okay now?"

"Loads," he said, nodding his head. He blushed redder and shiftily looked away from her eyes. "I should… I should get going. My parents are expecting me already. Besides, I'd rather not be cornered by Sirius today. He's going to go ballistic, I'm sure."

She smiled at the worry in his eyes, then bid him goodbye when he Apparated on the spot.

Once Regulus had Apparated away, Hermione turned on her heel to march back to the tower, only to stop in surprise. James was casually leaning against the stone wall, looking _too_ nonchalant when he'd obviously been watching her with Regulus just a while ago.

"You should have waited inside," she admonished once she reached him.

"And hang out with those old codgers?" he said, one corner of his lips lifting. "I'd rather not."

Hermione snorted and glanced over his shoulders, spying Dumbledore and the other Order members still discussing inside. With their relaxed stance, however, Hermione knew they were merely conversing about topics that didn't involve the war and Voldemort.

"You should go home, Whiskers," he said, pulling Hermione away so that they would be hidden from the people inside the Order Headquarters. "It has been a long day. Wait, _no_ , scratch that. It has been a long week for all of us."

She pointedly glanced at his face, noting the purple bruises under his weary eyes. James was also sporting a five o'clock shadow, when he usually shaved his face clean. No doubt the past few days had been tiring for him too.

Hermione placed a hand against his rough cheek and sadly smiled. "When's the last time you ate, James?" she asked.

He sheepishly smiled, the corner of his eyes crinkling. "I haven't really tracked that ever since I became an Auror, love," he said, shifting his face slightly to press a kiss against her palm. "But I think it's been a while. I can always ask Pokey to prepare me a meal once I get back."

"You should go home," she retorted back.

"In case you've forgotten, I _am_ home," he said with a laugh, wildly gesturing at the imposing Manor standing beside the Tower they were leaning against.

Hermione's hand slid down to his shoulder as she peered at him through her lashes. Her heart ached at the thought that she hadn't been with him like this for months, _alone_. Their letter correspondence had been abysmal for the past few months too, because James was swamped with work and she was distracted by the upcoming NEWTs.

It made her terrified how, despite their distance, she'd craved for his presence the most. "I missed you," she confessed, heart lodging in her throat at how earnest she sounded.

"Yeah?" he asked, a small smile growing on his tired face.

She glumly nodded her head, wondering how her feelings for him could still steadily grow despite everything that had been happening around them. With Lily's wedding approaching, Hermione should start formulating a plan — a last ditch effort to get Lily and James together just so Harry would be born into this new world. She bloody well knew she was already pushing luck here and maybe she was going a _tad_ barmy for insisting her own version of Harry Potter would be born despite how plain it was that such a thing couldn't come into fruition anymore. Besides, just the thought of suggesting to James that they should take a break, that _he_ should maybe pursue Lily once more if he fancied it, left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Hermione slightly made a face. The journey towards accepting that her emerald-eyed, messy-haired Harry Potter might not exist in this world at all was long and arduous but _hey_ , she was trying her very bloody best.

"I missed you too, Whiskers," he said, his hand already slipping to the back of her neck. "Very much, if I was being honest."

He dipped his head and neared his face, his hazel eyes warm and bright despite the darkness surrounding them. A soft sigh escaped from her mouth when James's pressed his lips against hers. His kiss was slow, deliberately reacquainting himself with every inch of her mouth.

Thoughts about Lily's upcoming wedding with Sev, of the predicament regarding Harry's possible nonexistence, were pushed towards the deepest parts of her consciousness.

All that mattered to her right here, right now, was this lovely boy pressed softly against her, his lips leaving marks that sank deep into her skin, forever embedding in her soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I'm already forgiven for the lack of James/Hermione scenes by teasing you with a bit of Jamione at the end of this chapter. There will be more development in their relationship soon, I promise! The plot will be picking up too as the Order will be more persistent, especially after the Hogsmeade attack hehe.
> 
> Thank you for your unending love and support. I've been swamped so much with internship stuff and my only break was binge watching Netflix shows and updating this story hahahaha. See you tomorrow!
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes)!  
> P.P.S. Also yowwww I'm cackling so much at the ship y'all made from this fanfic. Tbh, I never even thought about the possibility of a Moody/Anya relationship! Moody going uwu for Anya tho hmmmmmmmmm 🤔


	43. chapter forty-two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I legit flipped when I saw that this fic already reached 1000 kudos today!!! I never thought this fic will be huge and I'm just—😭 Thank you very, very much huhu.

* * *

**xxxxii.**

_**they've seen things that you never quite say** _

(You Matter to Me by Sara Bareilles)

* * *

**July 14, 1979**

Hermione warmly smiled at Lily when she opened the front door.

"Ready for today, Hermione?" her best friend asked, as she linked arms with the brunette and pulled her out of the house.

"I mean, I don't really have a choice, do I?" the younger witch asked with a laugh.

"No, you don't," Lily simply replied, leading Hermione towards the Apparation point near the Pettigrew's House.

Hermione rematerialised near the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron and trailed behind Lily as the redhead meandered through the throngs of patrons inside the busy pub, towards the brick wall separating the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley.

As Hermione went through the opened brick wall, she paused and stared at the dreary streets. She half-expected Diagon Alley to be bustling with people, seeing that it was summer. But what greeted her was an almost empty alley, with only a few shuffling wizards and witches hastily going to their destinations.

"After the attack at Hogsmeade, business has been down," Lily lowly whispered, hooking her arm around Hermione's once more to pull her towards Twilfitt and Tatting. "Some shops were forced to close due to lack of customers. It's… it's a bit worrisome. I think people are starting to realise that Voldemort's threat over the Wizarding World is going to cast a dark shadow over all of us."

Her heart clenched at the unfiltered fear on Lily's face. "We should just get this over and done with so that we can go home and you can rest," she softly replied.

A hollow laugh escaped from Lily's lips. "Don't you think it's a bit silly we're shopping for bridesmaid dresses when we're in the middle of a bloody war?" She gloomily tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear and frowned at her feet. "Maybe Sev was right. Maybe this isn't the right time to get married when there are far more important things to focus on."

Hermione squeezed Lily's arm and sighed. "No," she said. "I don't think it's silly. Sev told me you wanted to marry him because, if things went downhill, you'd at least want to spend your remaining months by his side."

"I _did_ say that," she said, a small, forlorn smile appearing on her face.

" _So_ , let us focus on our agenda for today," she insisted. "Let's pretend there's no war, that we're just two friends stupidly excited for your wedding."

Lily expelled an unladylike snort. "I can do that, I guess," she replied. "I _am_ stupidly excited for my wedding." Her face brightened amidst the dreary, empty streets of Diagon Alley. "I haven't been properly sleeping for the past few days. Did I ever tell you that? I just—I can't believe I'm actually marrying Sev soon! I only have a few weeks to go and it's silly, because we've been living together for almost a year already. But I've been a little giddy." A pretty blush dusted her pale cheeks. "I'm sure it's going to be one of my best days ever."

Hermione sadly smiled at her excited chattering, her heart clenching once more due to an entirely different reason. With Lily's open excitement at her wedding with Severus Snape, her last ditch effort to get her together with James seemed stupidly farfetched now. Lily's feelings for Sev had never subsided; instead, they mightily grew, unswayed by all of the atrocities that were happening in their world right now.

She glanced at Lily's twinkling emerald eyes and grieved that her Harry Potter, with his twinkling emerald eyes, seemed like a faraway dream right now. She just wished she could finally, _finally_ move on from her Harry and his bright green eyes just so she could properly and completely be happy for her best friends. For James too.

And well, for _herself_ , above all.

She forced those thoughts away, knowing she couldn't afford to be mournful today. Her best friend needed her today, and Hermione would focus on that. She'd think about her Harry during moments of solitude, when no one would be able to see the welling of tears in her eyes.

They finally reached Twilfitt and Tatting, a merry bell twinkling overhead when they pushed the door open. Hermione eyed the bell with a frown, thinking it was terribly out-of-place in a shop that was located in an almost abandoned alley. The shop itself was cosy enough, with multi-coloured dresses displayed on different racks, boasting both Wizarding and Muggle fashion-alike. She glanced at the different styles of hats and ridiculous gloves, with glitters and sequins and laces and frills.

This shop definitely catered more for casual and formal events, in comparison to Madame Malkins, which usually sold the standard wizarding robes for Hogwarts students and Ministry employees alike.

Lily pulled Hermione towards a rack filled with dresses in various shades of pink. "I've decided that my wedding's motif will be more 'old rose' or 'blush pink' type," Lily declared, her hands skimming across the various silks and laces.

"Pink?" Hermione echoed, eyeing her fiery red hair. "I thought that colour clashed with redheads."

Lily snorted and gave her a withering glare. "If you don't know what colour to match with your hair, yes it will terribly clash," she pointed out. "Now, come on! Get the dresses that catch your fancy."

"You're not going to peruse the wedding dresses?" Hermione asked, glancing at the displayed white dresses fluttering around bewitched mannequins which changed poses every five minutes.

"Hermione, I've been ready for ages," her best friend said with a laugh. "The only thing missing is _your_ dress."

The brunette's eyes widened. "Really?" she asked, disbelieving. " _Lily_ , you shouldn't have postponed your wedding waiting for me to graduate and—"

"Nonsense," she said, waving her hand flippantly. "Sev and I decided that we wanted to wait for _you_ , Hermione. We've been with each other through and through. Did you know that Sev owes you a lot? He said that if it weren't for you, he reckoned he may not have apologised for what he'd done during our fifth year and thereby ruined our relationship." She beamed brilliantly at the stunned witch. "I wasn't really planning on forgiving that idiot either, to be honest. But Sev promised he'd make it up for as long as he lived and… _well_ , look at me now, desperately in love with said idiot. I can't wait to spend my future with him."

Hermione's heart swelled at the adoration in Lily's eyes, tears prickling in her eyes at how Lily could never look at James like that. Not when she had Sev by her side, who seemed set on spending his future with Lily too.

A kind store clerk, dressed in the latest Wizarding fashion from head to toe, approached the two witches. "May I help you?" she asked with a pretty smile.

"Oh yes," Lily said, turning towards the witch. "We're looking for a dress in this shade of pink. A bridesmaid's dress."

The witch nodded her head and pulled out her wand. With a little twirl, a small book hovered towards her. "Which do you prefer? Wizarding style or Muggle?"

"Definitely Muggle," Lily said with a firm nod.

The pages from the book fluttered, much to Hermione's amusement.

"Something really simple too, but still pretty," the redhead added. "Hermione would kill me if I chose something too extravagant."

"I'm right here, you know," Hermione dryly quipped as the pages from the book fluttered furiously once again.

Lily continued listing down things she'd prefer to see in Hermione's dress. The younger witch chose to keep quiet, eyes slowly scanning the different dresses in the shop. Lily always had a good taste for clothes and she trusted her enough to choose something that would look nice on her.

By the time Lily was done, the store clerk had pulled various dresses from the rack, steadily piling them into Hermione's arms. Lily was highly amused by Hermione's flustered reaction, merely quirking an eyebrow when the brunette shot her quiet pleas for help.

"Oh, I think this will look good on you too!" the excited witch exclaimed, placing a shimmery dress on Hermione's growing pile.

"I think this is enough for now," she deliberately replied, her face already obscured from the heavy heap in her arms.

"Of course, of course," the witch replied, already steering Hermione towards one of the dressing rooms. "Let us see which one's you fancy."

Hermione was shoved giddily inside a brightly lit booth. Her panicked eyes met Lily's amused emeralds, but the older witch was stifling a laugh, clearly having fun. She glowered in return and drew the curtains with as much force as she could.

She deposited the dresses on a small stool inside the dressing room. Hermione mentally guessed there were at least fifteen dresses in total.

She grimaced and looked at her reflection, knowing full well this would be a very long day.

**-ooo-**

The moment Lily's eyes landed on Hermione as she walked out of the dressing room for the umpteenth time, Hermione knew this was the right dress.

"Well?" she tentatively asked, blushing awkwardly at the store clerk who was excitedly clapping.

"You look lovely!" the redhead exclaimed, immediately standing beside Hermione as the younger witch looked at her reflection.

It was one of the simpler dresses that had been shoved into her arms, but it looked really pretty on her. The one she was wearing right now was a two-piece set, with the top made of tiered lace displaying an intricate pattern that shimmered when it was hit by light. The tulle skirt was darker in shade, flowing down to her ankles with an asymmetric hemline. The back of the skirt fully brushed against the carpeted floor, but her beige, open-toed shoes with high heels and bows tied around her ankles could be seen in front.

Hermione actually felt lovely just by looking at herself in the mirror.

"I think," Lily said as a brilliant smile stretched wide on her face, "that if Potter sees you wearing that dress, he'll instantly ask you to marry him."

Her heart leapt to her throat, eyes widening at Lily's words. "W-what?" she stuttered out, horrified.

Lily snorted at her ridiculous reaction. "We're in the midst of war, Hermione," she pointed out. "If it's going to be the end of everything, you might as well spend it with the person you love the most."

Hermione's cheeks turned a furious shade of red as Lily sauntered towards the store clerk and started to discuss the price.

Hermione glanced at her reflection again, a horrified, pale face staring right back at her. The sapphire bracelet wrapped around her wrist twinkled teasingly, as if backing up Lily's nonchalant words a while ago. She was once again reminded of the formal dinner her family had shared with the Potters. James never broached that topic anymore, knowing full well that Hermione would grow mighty uncomfortable. He had never explicitly told her what he planned to do with her in the future, but the formal dinner had already spoken volumes about his intentions.

Her breath hitched in panic. Hermione didn't know what she would do if that day finally came.

Lily arrived beside her and urged her to change out of the beautiful dress. Hermione changed back into her casual, Muggle clothes and mechanically followed Lily around, her mind still deeply bothered by Lily's words.

"Are you okay?" the redhead asked, worriedly looking at Hermione once they'd walked out of Twilfitt and Tatting. "You look like you've seen a dementor."

"I'm fine," she croaked. Hermione cleared her throat. "Do you still need to purchase something for your wedding?"

Lily shook her head. "Everything's set," she said. "I only need to contact a few more people but besides that, I have nothing to buy here. But maybe you'd fancy some ice cream at Fortescue's? It's been a while since I've ventured out into the open. Unspeakable work has been tiring me so."

"You're not busy?" she tentatively asked.

"I still have a few reports to finish," the redhead said, wrinkling her nose in dismay. "But maybe eating ice cream for a few minutes won't hurt."

Hermione silently nodded her head and allowed Lily to lead her towards the cosy ice cream parlour. Like Twilfitt and Tatting, the shop was void of boisterous customers. There was one couple tucked into the far corner of the shop, making googly eyes at each other. But, besides them, they were the only ones inside. Normally, there were giddy children running around, leaving mayhem in their wake, whilst parents constantly apologised to Fortescue for their rowdy children.

Whilst Lily bought their ice cream, Hermione chose a booth inside the shop. A small smile appeared on her face, remembering that this was the exact booth she had been sitting on, when she'd met the Marauders for the first time - back when she was eleven years old. It seemed so long ago now, at the time, when all she'd wanted was to steer clear of the boisterous boys as much as possible, just so she wouldn't get involved with them. Now, Hermione was deeply entangled with their everyday lives and it would be quite impossible to pull away from them now.

Lily soon arrived and offered Hermione her toffee-flavoured ice cream. For a moment, the two witches sat quietly and contentedly ate their ice creams.

Hermione licked her spoon clean and gazed outside the huge window, watching as one mother hurriedly carried her child and scurried away. Diagon Alley today was strangely reminiscent of the Diagon Alley from the year 2000, with empty streets and closed shops. There had been more destruction then, but Hermione didn't doubt that with the increasing attacks by the Death Eaters, there would come a time when havoc would wreak.

"Do you think I will survive this war?"

The brunette stilled on her seat, eyes growing wide as her gaze immediately snapped towards Lily. The older witch was grim-faced, her emerald eyes trained intently on her vanilla ice cream. Hermione's tongue turned thick, unable to form proper words that could answer Lily's question.

With her long silence, Lily was forced to look back at Hermione. "You've read the Daily Prophet, Hermione," she added. "You've seen how they're constantly attacking Muggleborns and their families. I— My parents… they're still oblivious to how dangerous the world has become for them. I've talked to Sev, asked if it would be wise to place my parents – _Merlin_ , even Petunia and her horrible husband – into hiding. I-I'm too involved in this war, being a member of… _you know_. Sev instantly agreed, said that we could arrange that after we get married."

Lily's eyes glistened as she tightly clenched her jaw. Her gaze was unwavering and although Hermione wanted to look away, she couldn't. "So, do you think I will survive this war, Hermione?" she asked once more. "Will I be… will I be popping redheaded sourpusses in the future, reigning terror over our lovely home? Will I be able to grow old with Sev, because honestly, that's all I want in this whole world?"

Hermione swallowed down her emotions and looked away, tears now streaming down from her eyes.

"You're from the future," Lily gently continued. "I… I know I shouldn't pry. Being an Unspeakable taught me that knowledge can be a curse. I can't even begin to imagine how you're struggling right now, trying to let the future you've always known unravel into reality. But – but that's impossible now, don't you think? You're Hermione Pettigrew, _not_ Granger. I'd like to believe you've done a lot of things in this timeline to effectively change the course of the future."

She shakily lifted her hand and brushed away the flowing tears.

"But I'd like to know," her best friend continued, "if everything's still worth fighting for. If… if there is hope I can become happy after the end of everything."

" _You_ _will_ be happy," Hermione vehemently proclaimed. "I'll make sure of it."

She'd done a lot of things in this timeline already. She'd managed to save Regulus from his supposed death. She'd managed to locate four out of the current five horcruxes. She'd manage to repair the relationship between Lily Evans and Severus Snape. She'd managed to destroy the Vanishing Cabinet that had been the means of Death Eaters infiltrating Hogwarts and had ultimately led to Dumbledore's death.

The changes she'd made were already too pivotal. Lily and Sev were both right: the future she was used to was impossible to achieve now.

Lily's gaze on her didn't waver, her emerald eyes flickering with resigned understanding. Even though Hermione hadn't voiced it aloud, the older witch knew what her future had been in Hermione Granger's timeline.

"You will be happy, Lily," Hermione vowed, reaching forward to tightly clutch the redhead's shaking hand. "You and Sev. You both will be happy, build a family you love, make a _home_. You will be happy."

Lily chuckled despite her tears, her hold on Hermione's hand equally tight. "From the way you're saying it, I can't help but believe you completely." She reached forward with her free hand, fondly brushing Hermione's tears away. "I want you to be happy too, Hermione."

For a moment, Lily's face morphed into a face she had once loved more than life itself. The very same emerald eyes had once stared back at her, with glistening tears and a loving smile stretched wide on his face. Grief overwhelmed her and Harry comfortingly squeezed her hand in return. "I want you to be happy too, Hermione," Harry said.

Hermione miserably closed her eyes tight and took a deep, shuddering breath. Perhaps, Harry Potter wasn't really meant to be born in this timeline and although the grief was almost too suffocating, Hermione's only consolation was that her Harry would never know pain and suffering.

If fate wanted Hermione Pettigrew to change the world, in which all the people she had come to love were going to live and be happy, in exchange for the birth of Hermione Granger's version of Harry Potter, maybe she had no other choice but to accept that. Besides, Harry Potter was a bloody force to be reckoned with; Hermione already had an inkling Harry would still find a way to be born in this world, even though it wouldn't be through James and Lily.

Maybe, just maybe, _she_ could even be his—

' _Now, don't get too ahead of yourself, Hermione Pettigrew,'_ a voice chastised inside Hermione's head, putting a halt on whatever possible conclusion her mind was already starting to form.

Briefly, however, an image of a blue-eyed, messy-haired boy flashed before her mind's eye, prompting her breath to hitch and her eyes to widen.

Hermione honestly didn't know how she felt about that.

* * *

**July 21, 1979**

"All set, Hermione?"

Hermione looked up sharply from the book she was reading. "Mum's not outside?" she asked.

Peter shook his head and completely opened her bedroom door. "She told me in passing that Euphemia had invited her over for tea at the Manor," he said, striding inside her room uninvited. "I think James suggested it to his mother so Mum would be preoccupied today."

She expelled a huge sigh and stood up from her chair. "Mum's starting to get suspicious," she pointed out. "Do you think we should tell her about our involvement in the Order?"

"She's not exactly privy to the Order of the Phoenix," Peter reminded her. "She'll be safer if she knows less about it."

"Mum's not stupid, though. She knows we're up to something."

Peter lightly smiled. "I already have this inkling she'll catch us in the act," he confessed. "I just hope it won't be too soon. She's already disapproved of my current missions as an Auror. Imagine what she'd feel if she discovered we're also involved in the resistance."

"She might hex us good," Hermione cajoled. "Unleash the Selwyn within."

"She'd definitely do that," Peter answered with a snort.

He waited as Hermione got ready for today and then ushered her out of their house.

It was an awfully cheery summer morning. Peter mockingly waved his hand in greeting at Mrs. Jones who lived across from their house. The sixty-six-year-old lady narrowed her eyes at the Pettigrew siblings and muttered indecipherable words under her breath, no doubt insults about their freakish nature.

"Lovely lady," Peter dryly said. Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled him towards the Apparation point, aware that Mrs. Jones's steely green eyes suspiciously followed them.

"Do you think we should give her a nice little trick that'll keep her awake at night?" Peter suggested.

Hermione disapprovingly frowned and swatted his arm. "She's old, Peter. Don't do anything that might trigger a heart attack," she pointed out.

"She's _awful_ ," he whined. "Remember when she tried to call the Muggle police when we were younger because she thought we were cursing her?"

"Mum _was_ trying to curse her, though," Hermione said with a laugh, fondly remembering that day. "As payback for making you cry."

Peter made a face. "It would have been a nice memory if _that man_ hadn't caught Mum doing magic and hit her," he snarled. The smile on Hermione's face fell as she silently reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. It didn't escape her notice how Peter never called Timothy Pettigrew his father anymore. Hermione didn't either, but it gave her some comfort knowing he was already comfortable bringing up this man that had once caused them turmoil.

The Pettigrew siblings Apparated on the spot and reappeared just outside the Anti-Apparition wards of Hogwarts. Peter stared for a while, jaw dropping a bit as he gazed at the imposing castle from the distance. "It seems like yesterday that we wreaked havoc in this place," he said, tearing the iron gates open and leading their trek towards the castle.

"You were here during my graduation," she pointed out in amusement.

"Yeah, well, my memory of that day isn't exactly pleasant with everything that had happened after the ceremony," he dryly replied. He pointedly ignored the sadness in her eyes and ushered her to hasten her steps after glancing at his watch. "We have a few more minutes before the supposed meet up. Come on."

Hermione nodded her head and walked throughout the huge expanse of the Hogwarts grounds. It was a beautiful day and Hermione made a mental note to marvel at Hogwarts once their agenda for the day had ended.

Once they reached the doors of the castle, Hermione was able to spy James, Sirius, and Remus. It was Sirius who first saw them, already excitedly waving his hand in greeting. Remus's scarred face lit up and Hermione was struck with another realisation that the werewolf was looking more and more human as the months flew by. The Wolfsbane Potion had been kind to the weary wizard, and Hermione made another mental note to write a letter to Damocles Belby, thanking him for the kindness he had shown to all the werewolves who only wished to be normal.

"You're almost late," James greeted with a smirk. "Moody will go ballistic, Wormy."

Peter paled. "Which is why we should get going then," he insisted, already brushing past his three friends and taking the lead. Remus and Sirius soon followed behind, already loudly reminiscing about their Hogwarts days. James absentmindedly held her hand and pulled her inside. He was content at laughing at the antics of his best friends, occasionally squeezing Hermione's hand to bring her comfort.

By the time they had reached the stone gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office, the Marauders were buzzing with nervous anticipation. Hermione bemusedly glanced at their giddy faces, wondering why in Merlin's rotting teeth they were so _excited_ to visit the Chamber of Secrets. Memories of the Battle at Hogwarts rushed inside Hermione's mind, and from what she remembered, it wasn't a pleasant visit. The huge difference right now was that the basilisk was still very much alive and that was enough to make Hermione a bit fearful.

"Jumping Jellybeans," Remus offered to the gargoyle. The statue came to life and jumped aside, revealing the revolving staircase leading to the Headmaster's Office. The five of them clambered inside and patiently waited as the stairs took them upwards.

"Merlin, it seems like yesterday when Dumbledore called us four here for breaking another rule," Sirius said with a wide, nostalgic smile.

Remus snorted and strode forwards, knocking thrice on the wooden door. They heard Dumbledore's muffled 'come in' as the door clicked open, revealing the cosy Headmaster's office.

Hermione took a moment to gaze around, surprised that not much was different from Dumbledore's Office in the 1990's. There were still scattered trinkets around, a few vials emitting multi-coloured fumes that blanketed the whole office with a slight haze. Fawkes quietly eyed them from his golden perch. Beside the magnificent phoenix stood Alastor Moody. Hermione shot the three Aurors beside her an amused smile when their backs snapped ramrod straight at the sight of the Senior Auror. Even Sirius looked ridiculously obedient. Perhaps Auror training had really instilled discipline in these rowdy boys.

"Welcome," Dumbledore jovially greeted. "Come sit down."

With a wave of his wand, the two arm chairs across from his table stretched into long couches to accommodate them. They silently shuffled closer and sat down, eyes expectantly looking at the old wizard for further instructions.

"Jumping Jellybeans?" he offered instead, extending a tin can full of erratically moving, different coloured jellybeans. They politely declined, too nervous and excited at the same time to start eating.

"Is it really necessary to invite them all today, Dumbledore?" Moody grumpily asked, his eyes narrowed at the young members of the Order.

Dumbledore kindly smiled at Hermione. "I was hoping it would only be Miss Pettigrew accompanying us today," he confessed. "But I believe her friends are persistent."

"With all due respect, Moody, sir," Sirius drawled. "We have been trying to locate the elusive Chamber of Secrets for _years_. We cannot miss this for the world."

Moody narrowed his eyes. "Have you finished your weekly report, lad?" he barked.

Sirius grew pale. "Still working on it, Moody sir," he hastily said. Beside him, Remus started to snicker under his breath, earning him a scathing glare from the terrified shaggy-haired Auror.

"Now, now, Alastor," Dumbledore placated, "we have an entirely different agenda today. I'd rather we get this over and done with as soon as possible."

The grumpy Auror sighed and stiffly nodded his head.

The Headmaster clasped his hands together and looked back at Hermione. "Now, Miss Pettigrew," he started, "as much as I do not want to involve you and the others in the killing of the basilisk, loathe I am to admit it, I do not know where it is and how to gain entry to the chamber. You once said that only a Parselmouth can open it?"

"Parselmouth?" Remus asked with furrowed brows. "People who can understand Parseltongue are quite rare." His eyes widened as they landed on Hermione. " _You_ can understand Parseltongue?"

Hermione smiled and shook her head. "Fortunately, I don't," she said. "My best friend can, though, from the different timeline."

"Blimey, who is this enigmatic best friend of yours?" James quipped with incredulous eyes. "Not that I'm accusing him or anything, but usually wizards who have this skill tend to be associated with the Dark Arts."

The brunette snorted, imagining Harry Potter running around and destroying the whole world with Voldemort by his side. "He's anything but," she said, already struggling on how to explain Harry's situation without revealing too much to his supposed father. "But… there was an accident and, well— _never mind_ that. What matters is that the Chamber can be opened by simply hissing the word 'Open' to the stone snake."

"And _you_ know what its translation is?" Peter asked, looking at his sister like he'd never seen her before.

"Err, no," Hermione said, awkwardly scratching her chin. "But you see, while I was on the run with my best friend for years, I sometimes lay awake at night and listened to his mumblings whilst he slept." A sheepish smile grew on her face. "He mostly hisses, so I figured that was Parseltongue."

Sirius made a face. "That's a creepy thing to do, Hermione," he pointed out.

Her cheeks flooded red in embarrassment, because she _knew_ it was mighty weird too. "Shut up," she grumbled. "It proved to be quite useful, since at one point, we were able to open the Chamber of Secrets without him."

"Very well," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Might as well try it, Hermione. Hopefully, it'll be the right password."

**-ooo-**

She led them to the abandoned second floor bathroom. Hermione wrinkled her nose, remembering all the months she'd spent concocting a perfect Polyjuice Potion, only to botch it up when she managed to put the hair of Millicent's _cat_ in, instead of the Slytherin's.

A shiver ran down her spine, hoping never to relive that memory again. Hermione purposively walked towards the sink which would lead to the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets.

"An abandoned loo?" Moody sneered. "Terribly anticlimactic, Voldemort."

"Terribly convenient, though," Hermione murmured, already bending forward to meet the glinting green eyes of the stone snake. She gingerly brushed a finger on the stone and _swore_ it almost slithered away.

"Get on with it," Moody snapped. "The other Aurors will be here soon and if you don't want to raise more questions, we have to open it as soon as possible."

The brunette rolled her eyes took a deep breath. A series of hisses escaped from her lips, and she hoped against hope that at least one of them would translate to 'Open'. Harry always hissed in his sleep, most likely after dreaming vividly about Voldemort and his evil plans. She'd never really thought about them before, dismissing them as random incomprehensible words. But Ron had surprised her during the Battle of Hogwarts when he was able to open the Chamber of Secrets after hissing random sounds. From then on, Hermione made it a point to listen to Harry's hissing while he slept, having an inkling it would be of great use to her in the future.

Her blue eyes suddenly widened when a creak resounded in the whole lavatory. She wildly looked behind at the others, noting that they too wore unfiltered surprise on their faces. Even Dumbledore was fascinated as the sinks slowly lowered themselves down and revealed a hole.

Moody strode forward and peeked inside. Everything was pitch blank on the other end, prompting him to grimace.

"The basilisk is still locked inside another door," Hermione reassured. "The bottom isn't too deep. We just have to jump inside to reach the other door."

The Senior Auror stiffly nodded his head and jumped inside without any hesitation. Sirius and James followed, then Remus and Peter.

"Please, Miss Pettigrew, you go on first," Dumbledore said, gesturing at the hole in the ground.

Hermione nodded and took a deep breath, before plunging inside the hole. A small squeak escaped from her lips as she rushed down and landed squarely on someone's back. Hermione's eyes widened as she glanced down, recognising her brother, who now was groaning loudly in pain.

"Hermione," he complained. "Get off."

"I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed and allowed a laughing Sirius to haul her back onto her feet. Hermione helped a frowning Peter back onto his feet, and gave him a brief hug in apology.

Dumbledore lastly jumped down, landing elegantly onto the grimy floor. His blue eyes surveyed the dark basement, with leaking pipes lining the stone wall.

"This way," the brunette murmured, taking the lead once more. Her face would occasionally twist in disgust as her boot crunched down on bones of mice and other unidentified objects. "Holy shite," she heard James from behind, eyeing a huge pile of snake skin deposited near the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets. The littered bones and snake skin not only just proved that the basilisk was indeed _real_ but also it had roamed freely before.

The imposing circular door with stone snakes greeted them at the end. The glittering, emerald eyes pierced Hermione and unwittingly, she shivered.

"Hermione, if you may," Dumbledore said, gesturing at the door.

"Right," she answered, steeling all of her bravery before trudging towards it. Hisses tumbled out of her mouth, hoping that the right word would come out. Opening this door took longer than the sink, as Hermione's hisses grew harsh and frantic.

After what felt like an eternity, the bottom snake shot backward as another stone snake slithered around the periphery of the door.

Hermione took a few steps back, heart lodging in her throat in anticipation.

"Well, who knew Parseltongue was strangely a turn on."

A collective exclamation of James's name in various tones – Hermione: scandalised, Peter: disgusted, Sirius: teasing, and Remus: exhausted – echoed throughout the cave, drowning the hissing sound made by the slithering snake.

James realised he'd spoken aloud and turned a dark shade of maroon. " _Shite_ , I'm sorry that was wildly inappropriate," he murmured, sheepishly smiling at an equally flustered Hermione.

"Well then, I believe it's time to call for Benjy now, Alastor," Dumbledore said, pointedly ignoring James's comment.

The Senior Auror glared at James before sweeping his electric blue eyes towards Dumbledore. "I'll be right back," he gruffly said. Then, to the others, he barked, "Nobody goes in if you don't want to die by my hand!"

"Always so melodramatic," Sirius grumbled under his breath.

"What was that, Black?"

"Nothing, Moody sir," the shaggy-haired Auror smoothly said with a pleasant smile. "Enjoy the trek back up."

Peter snorted a laugh, which he quickly covered into a cough when Moody pierced him with a dark glare.

Not even ten minutes had passed when Moody came back, together with Benjy Fenwick. Dorcas Meadowes and the Prewett twins also accompanied them.

"Wicked," Gideon exclaimed with reverent awe. He glanced at his twin and impishly grinned. "If only we'd discovered this during our Hogwarts days, imagine how famous we'd have been."

"Prewett Twins, Slayer of a Basilisk," Fabian added. "Imagine if _that_ was embossed on a gold, shiny trophy, brother. Hogwarts will forever remember us."

"Shut it, you two," Dorcas sourly replied. The witch brushed away her numerous braids and warily eyed the younger members of the Order. "Is it necessary for them to be here, Dumbledore?"

"They're not coming inside, if that's what you're worried about," the Headmaster reassured.

Sirius expelled a disappointed sigh, earning him numerous glares from the older Aurors. He petulantly frowned at James, who gave him a half-hearted shrug.

"I'll accompany Fenwick, then call you lot once its dead," Alastor ordered, his eyes trained intently on the redheaded twins and the witch. "Stay guard here. If something happens, I want you to place powerful wards to stop the basilisk from getting out."

They firmly nodded their heads and brandished their wands.

"It's terribly easy to kill a basilisk, seriously," Benjy said with an annoyed frown on his face. Hermione bit her bottom lip to stop herself from laughing at the incredulous look Moody had shot at him. But Benjy was too busy pulling a small pouch from his pocket to notice Moody's expression. He pulled out a large cage housing a terrified rooster, noisily clucking inside.

Benjy then calmly walked inside the opened chamber, with Moody immediately scrambling behind him, words of caution falling onto deaf ears.

Not even a few minutes had passed when the rooster expelled an unmistakable loud crow, followed by an ear-splitting shriek that prompted Hermione to cover both of her ears in shock. A loud thud soon followed, causing the whole cave to shake briefly from a mighty impact.

"It's done," Benjy announced as he emerged out of the chamber, a wide-eyed Moody closely trailing behind. He calmly crammed the rooster inside its cage and placed it inside his pouch once more. "Do you have any other creatures that need slaying, Dumbledore?"

The corners of the Headmaster's mouth were twitching in amusement. "As of the moment, regrettably there isn't any, Benjy," he said, his eyes twinkling brighter when the wizard became obviously disappointed. "I will contact you if the need arises."

"Very well," Benjy replied, then murmured a brief goodbye under his breath and left.

"Prat," Dorcas snorted, already sweeping inside the chambers with the excited Prewett twins.

Dumbledore turned to Hermione and kindly smiled. "I believe we have some procuring to do," he said, gesturing towards the Chamber.

Sirius excitedly brushed past Hermione whilst Remus ran after him to keep him out of trouble. Peter was eyeing the room with distrust, prompting James to loudly laugh and swing an arm over his shoulder. "Come on, Wormy, the blasted thing's dead," he cajoled, absentmindedly clutching onto Hermione's hand and pulling the Pettigrew siblings inside the chamber.

It still looked exactly like how Hermione remembered it. James skidded to a halt, mouth hanging open as they gazed back at the huge statue of Salazar Slytherin. The basilisk was now a messy, immobile heap at the mouth of the statue, its yellow eyes already hazy and lifeless. Hermione was unable to suppress another shiver, remembering how she'd stared at the creature's reflection back when Hermione Granger was in second year. She still thanked the lucky stars above she was only merely petrified by the basilisk.

"Holy Mother of—" Peter shrugged off James's arm and shot towards where Sirius and Remus were standing. The latter two were already collecting valuable basilisk fangs with dripping venom while wearing special, dragonhide gloves and carefully placing them inside leather pouches.

"Come on," Hermione said, tugging onto James's hand to snap him out of his surprised reverie. James allowed his girlfriend to pull him towards the dead monster, kicking it with his dragonhide boots thrice to make sure it wouldn't start slithering once more and kill them.

"Wicked," he gushed out as he fell on his knees and started cutting off the fangs.

While the Marauders and Hermione collected the basilisk fangs, Dumbledore and the older Aurors disappeared, most likely perusing the humongous Chamber of Secrets. Hermione didn't doubt that this place also housed other valuable things of one of Hogwarts's Founder, leaving treasures lying around for his heir to discover. The thought that _Voldemort_ once spent most of his time here in this place, plotting world domination, made her scowl in disgust. This prompted her to slice through the fangs with increased vehemence.

"Merlin, Hermione, have mercy on this poor creature!" Sirius exclaimed, placing a hand on top of Hermione's to stop her furious assault. "It's already dead. Show some respect."

She was mollified by their snickers, her cheeks colouring in embarrassment. "Sorry," she said, absentmindedly reaching forward to pat the dead basilisk on its head.

"So this best friend of yours," James quipped, "you said he faced this vile thing when he's _twelve years old_?"

"Yes."

Peter whistled under his breath, placing the newly sliced basilisk fang inside another bag. "Blimey, why'd you hang out with him all those years?" he asked. "You said that Voldemort marked him as his equal, so then this boy would undoubtedly be followed by danger. Why'd you stick around?"

"Because I loved him," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "That's why."

James stilled, eyes growing wide with horror. " _What_?" he breathed out, thinly veiled jealousy simmering in his voice.

Hermione snorted. "Not in the way you're thinking, James Potter," she dryly replied, nose scrunching up at the thought of entering a romantic relationship with Harry Potter. She glanced at James, whose face he shared with her Harry, and found the whole situation laughable. "More like a _brother_. Like… like Peter." She looked at Peter and gave him a lovely smile. "I'd do anything for him."

Peter's eyes softened, and he reached forward to squeeze Hermione's hand. "Then, he was luckiest bloke to have Hermione Pettigrew by his side," he said.

"Hermione _Granger_ ," she corrected with a laugh. "But yes. He never got tired of saying that to me. He always told me he thought he'd have been dead by first year if I hadn't tried to befriend him." She laughed again, this time sadder and softer. "I did a pretty good job of keeping him alive until… _well_."

Peter squeezed her hand again for comfort. Hermione shot him a grateful smile and went back to slicing through the basilisk fangs.

"You've never really told us anything about this elusive best friend of yours, you know," Remus pointed out. "You only address him as The-Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, the beacon of all light and hope." He furrowed his brows and stopped his slicing. "You never even mentioned his name."

Her heart lurched, unable to stop herself from glancing at James. The bespectacled wizard met her eyes in surprise, but she immediately looked away and focused all of her attention on slicing the nearest fang. "Maybe some other time," she deliberately replied. "We have had enough excitement for today."

She knew they were all looking at her curiously, wondering why she was being vague with her answers. Thankfully, that was also the time Dumbledore and the others chose to stride out from whatever secret room they'd discovered inside the Chamber. The Aurors were carrying a pile of various knick-knacks, some emitting thick dark magic that made Hermione scrunch up her nose in disgust.

"All done?" Dumbledore pleasantly asked.

With one last mighty sweep from her wand, Hermione was able to remove the last basilisk fang. She deposited it inside the pouch. "All done, sir," she said as she climbed onto her feet.

Dumbledore nodded his head and looked back at Moody. "I trust you'll take care of these valuable things, Alastor?" he said, fingers absentmindedly brushing at one of the wrinkled spines of the books Moody was carrying.

"Of course," he gruffly replied. "Are you sure you do not need any help in destroying the horcrux?"

The Headmaster politely shook his head, his eyes meeting Hermione's. "I think we can manage to do it alone," he said, his eyebrows climbing a few centimetres on his forehead, an unspoken question in his gaze. Hermione nodded her head to silently relay that they could.

"Very well," Moody said. Then, to the twins and Dorcas, he barked a gruff "Come on." They all strode out of the Chamber and left with murmured goodbyes.

"Now," Dumbledore said once they were alone. "I believe we have a horcrux to destroy in my office."

**-ooo-**

Ravenclaw's Diadem sat on top of Dumbledore's desk, its sapphire gems twinkling menacingly under the bright lights of the Headmaster's office. Hermione unwittingly glanced at her own sapphire gem wrapped around her wrist, seemingly comforted by how its twinkling soothed her troubled heart.

"Do you think Reggie should be here?" Sirius asked Hermione, snapping her out of her reverie. "He was with you when you got that diadem after all."

Hermione smiled sadly. "I'm sure he'd love to be here," she replied. "But I think he has other important things to do today."

She had owled him prior to the excursion today, but Regulus had politely declined, vaguely telling her he had something else to do today. He didn't need to explicitly write out that Voldemort had given him a task. She wanted to persist, ask him if the task given to him would cause him any harm, but thought against it in the end. Regulus would surely tell her if he wasn't able to handle something.

Sirius's grey eyes dimmed, most likely already imagining these 'important things' his younger brother might be doing today. "All right," he dully said, jaw clenching tightly as he focused his attention back on the horcrux.

Hermione reached to touch his elbow in comfort. "He'll be all right," she reassured, hating how her voice slightly wavered with worry. It didn't escape Sirius's notice either, but he gave her a grateful smile anyway.

"Please," Dumbledore said, gesturing towards the diadem. "Any volunteers?"

"I'll do it," Hermione quickly said lest somebody else did it. James darted a worried glance at her, but she smiled in reassurance. "I've destroyed one before. It isn't dangerous."

Remus extended the pouch containing the venom-coated basilisk fangs towards Hermione. She grasped it in her gloved hands before slowly striding towards the table. Blood rushed in her ears, her heart pounded loudly inside her ribcage, with every step she took.

Dark magic was thick in the air. The sapphire gems almost looked harsh, like the diadem knew her ill intent. Memories of her horcrux hunt with her best friends rushed back into her mind, her breath hitching with overwhelming emotions. Hermione never realised she'd be at the exact same place she'd been as Hermione Granger. Wryly, she wondered if Harry Potter was watching over her wherever he was right now, a disappointed look on his face.

' _I'm sorry, Harry,'_ she thought, eyes clouding with tears as she gingerly pulled out a basilisk fang from the pouch.

Hermione took a deep, shuddering breath while a few tears escaped from her eyes. Then, with steely resolve, she raised the fang in the air and plunged it towards the diadem, right where the biggest sapphire sat. The dark blue gem shattered and Hermione backpedalled as black smoke billowed out of the destroyed horcrux. The smoke formed an image of the dark mark, emitting a piercing shriek that gripped Hermione's heart in fear. She took a few shaky steps back, only stopping when a solid figure halted her steps.

A grim-faced Dumbledore stepped forward and with a swish of his wand, the black smoke was dispelled and Hermione could properly breathe once more. "Miss Pettigrew—"

"I-I'm fine," she stuttered as she unsteadily wiped away her tumbling tears. "Give me a minute."

The person behind her turned out to be her brother, who had silently stepped beside Hermione and had steadfastly held her hand until she'd calmed down. She squeezed his hand in return for her thanks.

"It has been a tiring day," the Headmaster softly said with a small, sad smile. "As I've said before, I will contact you once more if I deem it necessary to destroy another horcrux." His blue eyes met Hermione's. "Seeing that we now have a means of destroying the horcruxes, I think it is also time for you to retrieve the last horcrux. I will contact you soon to give you and Mister Black further instructions."

Hermione silently nodded her head in reply.

"Well then, off you all go," Dumbledore said, clasping his wrinkled hands. "Rest if you must. We need as much energy as we can for the following months!"

They didn't need to be told twice. Peter tugged Hermione and led her out of the Headmaster's Office, closely following the other three wizards.

Before the door completely closed, Hermione craned her neck to look at the destroyed diadem one last time. A wave of relief and grim satisfaction washed over her. With newfound determination, she glanced forward and clenched her free hand into a tight fist.

' _One down. Four more to go.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> James's inappropriate line about Hermione's hissing was inspired from various Youtube comments on the DH clip where Ron and Hermione opened the Chamber of Secrets without Harry. I immediately knew it was something James would say hahahahahahaha.
> 
> Next chapter is… *sigh*. Both my Beta and I agreed it's quite lovely hehe. See you tomorrow!
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes)!


	44. chapter forty-three

* * *

**xxxxiii.**

_**who knows how long i've loved you** _

(I Will by The Beatles)

* * *

**July 31, 1979**

"Lily?"

Hermione cracked the door open and peeked inside. Her eyes widened upon beholding her best friend. Lily was clad in a simple, lacy wedding dress, with flowy short sleeves and a neckline that formed a deep V, enough to tease a hint of her breasts. Her usually straight hair was curled into smooth waves, and she wore a crown of white lilies on top of her fiery red hair.

"What are you doing just gaping out there, Hermione?" Marlene McKinnon cheekily asked, her hazel eyes glittering with amusement.

"Hi, Hermione," Lily shyly said, cheeks reddening in embarrassment at being gaped at.

The brunette's eyes filled with tears as she shrank the distance between her and her best friend. She threw her arms around the chuckling bride. "You look so lovely today, Lily. Honest," she sniffed.

"Why are you crying?" Lily cried, slightly pulling away from Hermione to glare at her through watery eyes. "The wedding hasn't started yet! Blimey!"

"Please don't start crying," Mary greeted as she entered the room too. "I don't want to cry yet." Her pretty blue eyes also shone with unshed tears, and laughingly, Lily ushered the blonde towards them to join in the hug. Only Marlene was tear-free, highly amused at the girls' antics.

"Save the sappiness for the wedding march," Marlene sighed, the corners of her mouth twitching into a fond smile. She pried Hermione and Mary away from the bride and grinned brightly at Lily. She reached forward and fixed her flower crown, before holding both of her hands. "Severus Snape is one lucky bastard."

Hermione grasped Lily's arm with blatant seriousness on her face. "If he hurts you, I know how to throw a mean Bat-Bogey Hex," she offered, a dangerous glint in her eyes.

"Oh, oh, _she_ surely does!" Mary exclaimed, followed by a laugh.

"Not if I punch him in the face first," Lily joked.

Marlene snorted. "That's the Lily Evans we know and love, all right," she said.

Their conversation was halted as another knock came from Lily's door. It cracked open and Mrs. Evans' face peeked inside. "All set, girls?" she asked, her smile widening when her eyes landed on her daughter.

Lily nervously laughed and smoothed invisible wrinkles in her dress. Hermione caught her hand and gave her a comforting squeeze. "You look perfect, Lily," she reassured. "I'm sure Sev won't be able to keep his eyes off you."

Her emerald eyes glittered with tears once more, but the smile on her face stretched far and wide like the horizon. Lily looked marvellously glowing and Hermione genuinely only felt happiness for her best friend today. She tried to trample away the memories of another emerald-eye boy who occupied the deepest recesses of her brain, knowing that her current best friends' happiness mattered today more.

Then, with a deep inhale, Lily declared, "I'm ready."

**-ooo-**

Lily and Sev's wedding took place in a quaint garden near Hogwarts. Seeing they both lived in dreary Cokeworth, with a polluted river and an abandoned factory as the main attraction, they had both agreed they should search for a place that was closer to place they considered as their second home.

Hermione scanned the whole garden, lips stretching into a wide smile as she spied the numerous lilies lining the aisle. There were already some guests lounging on the chairs, waiting for the wedding to start. Hermione was able to spy Peter and their mother sitting close together, with Remus amicably conversing with Anya. She noted other familiar faces from the Order and their schoolmates. Lily's relatives only consisted of her parents and some aunts and cousins who knew about her magical background. Petunia and her new husband, Vernon, were visibly absent. Sev's side had even fewer guests, only consisting of two Slytherin friends and a neighbour who'd looked after him during his childhood.

Despite their lack of relatives, the bride and groom made up by inviting friends they'd come to love like real family. Although it was a sad sight, Hermione was at least happy they'd found friends who'd do anything for them.

She tried to search for James and Sirius too, but Mary touched her elbow to get her attention.

"The wedding march is about to start," she said with a kind smile.

The small band Lily had hired started to play a soft tune that ceased all conversation. Hermione's eyes landed on the altar, where an obviously uncomfortable Moody stood, constantly fidgeting with his tie. In front of him stood Sev, his face very pale and his back ramrod straight. He looked terribly nervous, but the way his dark eyes shone brightly under the clear sky spoke of his anticipation. He met her gaze, prompting her to widely smile. Sev's expression softened and gave her a small smile. But then, he froze, eyes growing wide, as his gaze strayed farther back. The whole garden had grown silent too. Hermione craned her neck and spied Lily at the very back, her glowing face hidden behind a lacy veil.

A wizard then stood up and magically _'Sonorus-ed'_ his voice. The band started to play a familiar song that made Hermione softly laugh. Of course Lily would pick a Beatles song for her very special day.

As the procession started, the wizard crooned a sweeter rendition of _'I Will'_ , and Hermione eyes watered with overwhelming emotions. Her cheeks started to hurt as she walked down the aisle, eyes trained intently on Sev. He hadn't even glanced at her, his dark eyes already latched onto his bride to be.

Hermione wasn't sure if Sev was aware of how open his expression was. His eyes glittered with earnest emotions and she even noted that there were tears gathering in his eyes. The smile he wore looked uncharacteristic on him, but anyone who could see him right now would figure this was a man very much in love.

As Hermione reached the front, she stood aside and faced the guests. Her heart squeezed fondly at how Lily was obviously fighting back tears but miserably failing. Her emerald eyes were shining and she was grinning brightly at Sev. It seemed like everybody around them had dissolved all together. It was just him and her, two people who loved each other dearly.

Quiet guilt rose up in her stomach, remembering those moments when she'd wished they'd break up. Accepting that Harry Potter might be nonexistent in this world had been a slow, difficult process, but seeing how Lily and Sev were truly happy made it all worth it. She knew that wherever Harry was right now, he'd firmly believe that too.

Hermione tore her gaze away from Lily and glanced at the crowd once more. Anya and Peter were beaming at her widely, which she returned. They were soon distracted when it was Lily's turn to march.

All the guests craned their necks to watch as Lily walked down the aisle. Mr. and Mrs. Evans were clutching their daughter's arms, both were also in tears.

One person caught her attention, though, as he was the only one who wasn't looking at the bride.

Hermione's eyes met James's hazel ones. Her heart leapt into her throat at the way he was looking at her, like she was the only one in the room and nobody else mattered. His lips were stretched wide into a smile, which she returned with a small, tentative one.

Anybody who looked at James would undoubtedly know this was the gaze of a man in love too.

Hermione wondered what people would think if they saw the expression on her face.

Awed gasps and sniffled cries echoed in the quaint garden. And, even though Lily passed right by his row, James's eyes never left Hermione.

"I love you," he mouthed, his smile stretching wider.

Hermione huffed a laugh as a tear rolled down from her eyes.

Merlin Almighty, she was going to answer soon.

Very soon.

**-ooo-**

Hermione grinned behind her glass of wine when Peter made another stumble on the dance floor and stepped on Mary's foot in the process. The poor blonde was already grimacing in pain and her brother had been profusely apologising since he'd asked Mary to dance. The witch then burst into a loud laugh and looped both of her arms around Peter's neck. Peter turned a brilliant shade of red, grinning awkwardly when he placed both of his hands on her waist and allowed Mary to lead them into a slow dance, despite the blaring upbeat song played by the band.

The wedding was wonderful and Hermione had cried happy tears as Moody finally declared her best friends as man and wife. Lily comically almost jumped into Sev's arms before snogging him for the whole crowd to see. Hermione snorted at how ridiculous they looked. Wolf whistles from the crowd broke them apart and despite his red cheeks, Sev's smile was magnificently wide.

The chairs were then magically rearranged along the sides to give room for dancing. Hermione still found Lily and Sev's first dance as a married couple hilarious, since the wizard was obviously out-of-sorts. But Lily was patient and kind, refusing to let Sev's eyes stray away from the guests until their dance had ended. Sev didn't even realise the next song had started, as the guests floated onto the dance floor; he was too lost in Lily's green eyes.

Hermione had been pulled onto the dance floor by various wizards since then. Peter was the first one to cajole her, and she had to stop herself from hexing him for being atrocious at dancing. Remus and Sirius were loads better than her brother, flawlessly twirling her around and making her laugh. James hadn't come to her since the start of the reception and try as she might, she could not locate the wizard. A part of her had this inkling her boyfriend was planning _something_. Hermione honestly felt a little nervous at that thought.

Tired from dancing, Hermione decided to hang out near the refreshment table. She'd been contentedly watching the dance floor ever since.

"Lovely wedding. Don't you think?"

Hermione glanced at the man standing beside her. The man was Sev's Muggle neighbour who had taken care of him when he was younger. He was in his 30's or 40's, with perfectly styled black hair and hints of grey lining some strands. His dark eyes almost matched Sev's, but his had a hint of golden specks.

"Oh yes, lovely wedding," she echoed, unable to stop herself from frowning. This man looked _eerily_ familiar, like she'd seen him before, but she couldn't quite place a finger on it.

To her surprise, a small smirk grew on his face. Instantly, she remembered a particular Slytherin Pureblood, sporting the very same expression on his face.

"Hello, Pettigrew."

Her eyes widened in shock. "Regulus?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

His smirk turned into a full-blown smile. "I was starting to think you'd never realise it," the disguised wizard said with a chuckle. He grasped a glass of wine from the refreshment table behind him and took a few, dainty sips.

"What are you doing here?" she harshly whispered, stepping closer to the Black heir.

"I was _invited_ by Snape," he pointed out with a laugh. "Why'd you think I'd be here?"

Hermione frowned. "I didn't know you and Sev were close," she mused aloud, remembering all those times Sev had warned her about hanging out with Regulus Black at Hogwarts.

The disguised wizard snorted incredulously. "We're not," he revealed. "We… _tolerated_ each other, especially since he's technically a Blood-Tr… err…"

"A Blood-Traitor?" she asked with a bemused smile, prompting the Black heir to turn crimson.

"The Slytherin House is a shite House for people like him," Regulus grumbled. "We respected him greatly though because he's really brilliant at Potions and Slughorn practically took him under his wing. Things had been horrible for him during his younger years at Hogwarts and Slughorn had no choice but to intervene." A small, amused smirk grew on his face, his dark eyes turning glassy in remembrance. "You lot might think Slughorn's an imbecile whose mere purpose in life is to collect shiny students he can display for the world to see. Horace Slughorn can actually be a terrifying snake if he wants to."

Hermione's eyebrows flew up to her hairline in disbelief.

"But, never mind about him now," Regulus said. "The fact is, I think Snape only invited me because Evans forced him to."

"Well, technically, she's a Snape now," she corrected followed by a laugh. "But yes, I think Lily's behind all these guests."

It had surprised her when she'd found out the Marauders had been invited to their wedding. Peter, she could understand, because Lily tolerated him. She and Sev both liked Anya so it was only natural to invite the whole Pettigrew family.

The other three, however, were not exactly close with either of them. It was still obvious how Sev highly disliked James and Sirius, and the feeling was mutual. Sev still warily eyed Remus when he was in the same room as him, memories of that full moon during their fifth year still fresh in his mind. But when they'd announced to Hermione they'd been invited too, Hermione instantly knew this was Lily's doing.

Her eyes sought out the fiery bride, smiling fondly as she threw her head back and laughed with abandon over something Sev had whispered to her. _Merlin_ , this woman really had a big, golden heart, willingly looking over her past with the Marauders, all because she knew they had grown up and were actually tolerable to be with.

Hermione distractedly glanced at the shaggy-haired Auror awkwardly dancing with Marlene McKinnon. She furrowed her eyebrows, clearly remembering that Sirius had said everything between them was already over.

"I didn't know my brother was still dating McKinnon," Regulus quipped, his eyes also trained intently on the tensed couple.

"Sirius said he broke up with her," Hermione pointed out, smiling in amusement at how Marlene's eyes flashed in anger, unwilling to unwind her arms from around Sirius's waist. "Looks like they're not having a blast, though."

Regulus snorted. "Looks like my brother's being a complete _buffoon_ ," he said with a sigh. "The witch's clearly in love with him. Of course my brother's freaking out."

Hermione looked at Marlene in surprise. She hadn't really interacted with her as much as she had with Lily. She'd talked with Mary more because she was dating her brother. Marlene, on the other hand, rarely hung out with the Marauders. So, she wasn't exactly privy to Sirius's love life.

"Never mind about Sirius now." Hermione glanced back at Regulus, noticing the redness on his cheeks. "Say, Pettigrew, maybe you'd like to dance?"

The brunette huffed a laugh. "I think it'd be really weird for me to dance with Sev's supposed Muggle neighbour, who by the way, is almost twice my age," she joked with a teasing glint in her eyes.

"Oh," Regulus said, suddenly looking uncertain.

"I was joking, you buffoon," she pointed out. "Of course I'll dance with you."

The disguised wizard turned red once more and nervously fiddled with his collar. "All right," he said, after clearing his throat and offering his hand. "Shall we?"

Before she could place her hand on top of his, Sirius suddenly barrelled towards their general direction. "Reggie!" Sirius hissed, grasping onto his awaiting hand. "Save me, please!"

Regulus scowled and tried to shake him away, but his older brother just held onto his hand tighter. "Why can't you just bloody admit that you like her too?" he quipped in annoyance.

Hermione watched in amusement as a blush crept from Sirius's neck up to the tips of his shaggy, black hair. "I don't know what you are talking about," he hotly shot back. He started pulling the disguised wizard onto the dance floor, his loud protests falling onto deaf ears. The siblings were already making a huge ruckus on the dance floor, which Sirius didn't mind, as he started to demand Regulus dance with him while furtively darting grimaces at a clearly put out Marlene.

"Berk," Hermione said with a sigh, rolling her eyes at the boisterous Auror's antics.

Now that she was alone again, Hermione swept her eyes towards the dance floor and caught sight of her best friends. Seeing that she had nothing else to do, Hermione meandered through the throng of dancing guests and smiled brilliantly at the newlywed couple.

"Mind if I cut in?" she cheekily asked.

Sev quirked an eyebrow. "Much as I like you, Hermione, I'd rather not dance too much on my wedding day, unless you're my _wife_ ," he ground out. Hermione noticed how Lily's cheeks coloured to match her vibrant red hair.

Unfazed by his words, Hermione grasped onto both of their hands. "Then, you will both dance with me instead," she exclaimed with a laugh as _'Dancing Queen'_ by ABBA blasted throughout the garden. Severus growled and tried to pull his hand away, but Lily caught his other hand and effectively trapped him in place.

Hermione swung around the dancefloor with her best friends, boisterously twirling Lily and teasingly tugging the redhead away from the annoyed wizard. Sev retaliated by trapping them both in his arms, whining to the brunette to let Lily go so that he could dance with his wife in peace.

Lily was laughing loudly, her emerald eyes glittering with so much happiness that Hermione couldn't look away. Her Harry had never held such happiness in his eyes, and to see it in Lily's, swelled Hermione's heart with fond sadness.

"I'm so happy for you both," she confessed, pulling both Lily and Sev towards herself and giving them a squeeze. "I hope you'll be happy for the rest of your lives."

Lily dropped a watery kiss on her temple while Sev gave her a soft smile.

Hermione was soon whisked away by Mary, who was giddily proclaiming that it was time for the bride to throw her bouquet.

"Do I really have to join?" she protested, letting the overly excited witch drag her towards the other witches. Marlene rolled her eyes when they arrived and smirked upon noticing Hermione's scowl.

"Seems like you can't get away from this either, eh?" she asked, giving Mary an indulgent smile. Hermione noticed her red-rimmed eyes and gave her a comforting smile.

"This is shite," the brunette grumbled, earning her a pointed glare from Mary.

Lily beamed brightly at the witches before turning around and preparing to toss the bouquet. Hermione tried to take a few steps back while Mary eagerly bounced on her heels. Hermione's cheeks coloured when wolf whistles from the crowd erupted. She tried to locate the source of the noise and saw _James_ , a sneaky smirk stretched wide on his face.

It was mighty unfair how he looked unbelievably dashing today - Hermione had almost forgotten that she still hadn't had any alone time with him. James met her gaze and she glowered, but this only seemed to stretch his smirk wider.

Excited clapping burst throughout the crowd as Lily finally threw her bouquet. The bunch of lilies soared in the air and in spite of her annoyance, Hermione laughingly took a step back to let Mary get it instead. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw how James coughed loudly behind his hand. Instantly, Mary faltered, a hazy, confused look blooming on her face. The older witch swayed slightly to the left and massaged her temples, seemingly deep in confusion.

Unfortunately, as Hermione was immediately behind Mary, the bouquet sailed _directly_ at her. Acting purely on reflex, Hermione extended her hands and let the flowers land directly onto her upturned palms.

The guests burst into another round of excited clapping as Hermione's eyes widened in horror.

"Nice catch, Hermione," Marlene said with a laugh.

Her horrified eyes met Mary's obviously disappointed ones, before her blue eyes sought for James again, knowing full well that _this_ was his doing.

He was one of those who was clapping the loudest, his hazel eyes twinkling impossibly bright. She threw him an accusatory glance, but he merely smiled in innocence, even ignoring how Peter had grown indignant at the turn of events.

Hermione pushed her way through the crowd and ignored Lily's congratulations, focusing purposively on stomping towards her boyfriend to give him a piece of her mind. But James had suddenly disappeared, and try as she might, she could not find him.

"What's gotten your knickers in a twist?" Lily called, beaming brightly at the bouquet clutched tightly in Hermione's hands.

Her cheeks bloomed in embarrassment. "I wasn't supposed to catch this," she grumbled under her breath.

The bride quirked an eyebrow and hooked her arm around Hermione's. "Perhaps, the fates are conspiring together, Hermione Pettigrew," she said, her painted lips stretched widely into a teasing grin.

Hermione's cheeks darkened more, wondering why in Merlin's saggy bum James had confounded Mary just so she could catch the bouquet. She'd very much like to think that this was a _prank_ , because surely the annoying git would never let an opportunity to tease her pass. But knowing the implication of catching the bouquet, and remembering that stupid, _stupid_ formal Pureblood dinner her family had shared with the Potters, Hermione couldn't help but feel nervous about James's true motive.

Before she could dwell on this deeper, somebody was loudly clearing his voice at the very front of the dancefloor.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Hermione followed Lily's line of vision and saw James standing in front of the band, his guitar slung over his shoulders. He caught Hermione's eyes and sent her a teasing wink, before clearing his throat once more. "Dear guests, I would like to take this opportunity to congratulate Lily Snape, nee Evans, and Snivellus Snape for getting married today!" With a flick of his wand, a glass of wine flew into his awaiting hand and he lifted it into the air. "To the newly-wedded couple!"

The crowd echoed his words, prompting James to grin. After taking a few sips from the glass, he placed the wine glass aside and stood a little taller. "Now, I'm not sure if everybody knows this, but I was hopelessly in love with Lily Evans during my youth," he continued.

"Everybody bloody knew!" somebody shouted from the crowd.

"Shut up, Pads," James hollered back, his cheeks staining red whilst laughter ran throughout the crowd. "As I was saying, yes, I was in love with Lily Evans because how could I not have been? I mean _look at her_. _Everybody_ please, for the love of Merlin, just look at her."

Lily's cheeks matched her red hair and she glared darkly at the boisterous wizard.

"I may have been a real berk to her, but I just want to thank Lily today for not cracking under my impossible charms," he said, his smirk turning into a small, fond smile. "If it weren't for your stubbornness, I wouldn't have been able to realise that I am not, in fact, very much in love with you." He cleared his throat again and frowned in Sev's direction. "I still hate your face, Snivellus, but everybody can see that your love for Lily Evans trumps everything else."

"I'm going to kill him," Sev murmured under his breath, but Lily, in spite of her embarrassment, softly chuckled and hooked her arm around his, keeping him in place.

"So, for nostalgia's sake, let me take this opportunity to gift you with a song." James smirked mischievously when he started strumming his guitar, the familiar chords of 'I Want to Hold Your Hand' ringing out.

Hermione groaned. "Aren't you going to stop him?" she asked the amused witch.

"I love this song," Lily reminded her. "Let the toerag have his fun."

Regrettably, James's voice was still marvellously atrocious, but his impossible confidence made up for it. The crowd had gone wild and had started singing along. Hermione even spied Sirius and Peter hilariously busting ridiculous moves on the dance floor while Remus sighed at their antics, the corner of his mouth twitching in exasperated amusement.

James was having so much fun, he tried to make comical moves on the small platform whilst still continuously strumming his guitar. She noticed he had gotten better at it; perhaps, he had been practicing for ages, after confessing he'd grown quite fond of the instrument. And in spite of his antics, Hermione found herself singing along with the crowd soon after, laughter bubbling out of her lips in between exclaimed lyrics.

Once he struck his last chord, deafening cheers from the crowd resounded in the whole garden. James gave a flourished bow. "I heard that after singing this song, I get a snog," he started. "But seeing that Lily is technically off limits, maybe someone else would like to do it instead?"

His hazel eyes connected with Hermione's as his grin broadened. "Fancy a snog, Hermione Pettigrew?" he boomed.

Hermione hid her face behind the bouquet.

"I'm going to kill you, James Potter."

Lily gasped. "Bat-Bogey Hex?" she asked, a pleading look in her eyes.

Hermione snorted, watching as James sheepishly approached her. "Bat-Bogey Hex." Before James could react, she'd sent her infamous hex towards him. The bespectacled wizard yelped, bat-shaped bogeys now flying out of his nostrils and furiously flapping their wings against his crimson face.

Lily expelled a huge, contented sigh. "This is the best day of my life."

**-ooo-**

The sun had completely set and the only source of light in the garden was from the fairy lights strewn across the surrounding trees and bushes. The moon was a lovely crescent in the inky black sky, its beams bathing the quaint garden with a certain ethereal glow.

It was even lovelier at night. Some curious fireflies now fluttered around the garden, further illuminating the white lilies and the happy faces of the guests. Most had already apparated home, but the reception was still nowhere near finished.

Hermione saw Lily and Sev wrapped around each other in an embrace, already lost in each other's world, seemingly oblivious to everybody around them. She saw Mary and Peter too, with the witch smiling fondly at the sandy-haired wizard.

"Hermione, sweetheart."

She turned around to look at her mother. "Mum," she said with a smile.

"I think I'll call it a night," the older witch said. "It's been a tiring day."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

Anya shook her head, her wild curls whipping slightly against her cheek. "Oh, please, stay and have more fun," she said, reaching forward to grasp her daughter's hand. "The night is still young for you." She paused as she looked over Hermione's shoulder, a smile now growing on her face. "It is a lovely night."

She felt James before she saw him, her heart skipping a beat when he placed a hand on her hip.

"Already going home, Anya?" the bespectacled wizard asked.

"I'm not as young as I used to be," her mother joked, her blue eyes glittering prettily under the fairy lights. "As much as I want to stay more, my back has already started protesting." Anya reached forward to place a kiss on Hermione's cheek. "Goodbye, my love. Have fun."

Anya then surprised James when she pulled him down to also give a kiss on his cheek. "Make sure my daughter has a lovely time, young man," she lightly warned.

"I will try my best," he said with a lopsided grin. "Marauder's honour."

Her mother gave them another wave in goodbye and apparated away with a soft pop.

Once she was gone, Hermione craned her neck to look at James. "Aren't you tired?" she teased. "It's been an exciting day for you, after all."

James snorted. "Moody has trained me to have an endurance that could rival a hippogriff," he joked, his hand sliding down to hold Hermione's. She smiled and shifted her hand so that her fingers could lace through his.

At the same time, the small band started strumming a familiar song that caught her attention. James ducked his head and peered down at her face. "Maybe you'd like to dance, Whiskers?" he asked, _'The Long and Winding Road'_ blanketing the suddenly quiet crowd.

Hermione smiled in answer and allowed James to pull her towards the dance floor. His arm easily wound around her waist and, tentatively, she laid her head against his chest. His heartbeat was a steady, comforting sound, and mingled with the song that was close to her heart, Hermione felt forlorn, missing a man she'd once called her father.

"You know," James whispered, his lips brushing lightly against the crown of her head, "I've always wondered why you always look sad when this song plays."

She lifted her head to meet his hazel eyes. His brows were furrowed in worry and she smiled at him reassuringly. "When I was Hermione Granger, my father used to play The Beatles songs during lazy, Sunday mornings," she explained. "He loved them so much, he even boasted a collection of their vinyl records – those are circular containers that store music, so that you can play them to your heart's content. 'The Long and Winding Road' was his favourite song, and one summer I practiced playing it on my guitar just so I could surprise him on his birthday."

Tears prickled her eyes as her smile turned sad. "He was truly happy that day," she continued. "Since then, I've memorised the song and its chords by heart. Funnily enough, even though I am Hermione Pettigrew today, I still know the chords perfectly."

James's eyes softened as a tear slipped down from her eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, lifting a finger to brush her tear away.

Hermione snorted a laugh. " _Merlin_ , this is supposed to be a happy day," she complained. "There shouldn't be any room for sadness!"

A sly smirk suddenly grew on James's face, and before she could ready herself, he twirled her on the dance floor. Hermione expelled a surprised squeak and glowered at James, who broke out into silent laughter. "You _berk_ ," she snarled. "A little warning next time."

His eyes widened as he covered his nose. "Please don't Bat-Bogey Hex me again," he murmured. "I can only survive one of those today."

She expelled a soft, sheepish laugh. "Sorry about that," she said.

"No, you're not," he pointed out.

Her smile grew wider. "No, I'm not, because you rightfully deserved that for being a prat," she admonished.

"Aww, come now, Whiskers. It was fun making you _flustered_ ," he whined. "You should have seen your face when you caught the bouquet. _Or_ when I asked you to snog me in front of fifty guests."

"Like I said, _prat_ ," she laughed.

James sighed and reached forward to tuck a curl behind her ear. "You're bloody terrifying," he declared, the fond tone of his voice loud and clear. Instead of retrieving his hand back, James cradled her cheek against his calloused hand. "Have I told you yet you look beautiful today, Hermione?"

Her initial annoyance morphed into embarrassment, knowing full well her cheeks had warmed at his compliment. James's grin widened as he pulled her closer, wrapping his arm around her waist once more.

The song had long ended, and a slightly more upbeat song had started playing, but James still continued to lead her in a slow dance. She tucked her head underneath his chin and leant against his chest as a soft sigh escaped from her lips. His arm around her tightened and as Hermione's eyes fluttered closed, she fancied herself into thinking the world was melting around them and that the only thing that mattered was his secure hold around her.

Hermione got distracted when something pointy poked her cheek. She slightly pulled away and padded her thumb over James's collar. Her eyes widened as she pulled it underneath his shirt, the amulet she'd given to him a few years ago greeting her eyes.

"It's proven to be very helpful during my missions," James told her, his hazel eyes also latched onto the necklace hanging from his neck.

The brunette thickly swallowed and glanced at her glinting sapphire bracelet, before slowly looking back at James's face. He was already looking down at her, his eyes shining with emotions he reserved for her. _Only_ for her.

Perhaps, it was the fact they were at a lovely wedding, where happy emotions were at their most palpable. Or maybe it was her beating heart, trying to break from her chest to leap into James's awaiting hands. Or perhaps it was his hazel eyes, brown and green and beautiful like the silently swaying trees surrounding them.

But no matter the reason, Hermione knew it was pointless to stop herself from saying it anymore. She'd always known it was how she already felt, her mind whispering words for James when he went on another dangerous mission or when he'd do something really, terribly sweet that shattered whatever fragile strength she had.

She'd allowed herself to forget her past, of the horcrux hunt, of defeating Voldemort. All the noise inside her head had quietened into a pleasant hum, with words she'd been keeping to herself for months – maybe even _years_ – the only thing she could loudly hear at that very moment.

"I love you, James," she breathed out, like it was the most certain thing in the whole world.

His eyes widened as he froze. And then, he broke into the widest smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Merlin, his whole face was smiling _brilliantly_ and Hermione felt like she was staring at the sun.

"I know," he simply said.

Hermione slowly knitted her eyebrows. "What?"

"Took you long enough, blimey," he said with an exasperated sigh, but the smile was still on his face.

She blinked at him in confusion. "You knew?" she asked.

James laughed. " _Hermione_ , please, you wear your emotions for everyone to see," he explained. "So yes of course I knew. You always make these googly eyes when you look at me. Do you know that?"

"I don't make googly eyes!" she protested, cheeks staining red with embarrassment and annoyance.

He held both of her cheeks in his callused palms and leant down. "Yes, you do," he laughingly pointed out. "And I don't care if you keep on denying it or not. Because you just _said_ you love me. It came tumbling out from your lips, sweet Merlin and Morgana. And there's no taking it back. I forbid it!"

Hermione huffed a laugh and placed both of her hands on top of his. "I love you, James," she repeated once more.

James's grin softened as he leant his forehead against hers. "Merlin, Hermione, I love you too," he breathed out, followed by an incredulous laugh.

She matched his grin and wove her fingers through his hair, already standing on her tiptoes to meet his lips halfway.

* * *

**August 1, 1979**

It was perhaps the most peaceful sleep she'd ever had. When Hermione opened her eyes the very next day, a smile instantly stretched on her face.

Everything that had happened yesterday was still vivid in her mind. As Hermione hauled herself out of her bed, her lips still tingled from the kiss James had given her yesterday after she'd told him she loved him.

She swept her monstrous hair away from her face and was about to walk out of her bedroom, when a soft tapping from the window caught her attention.

Lily's owl blinked her huge, yellow eyes in greeting and patiently waited for Hermione to unlatch the window. Daisy landed elegantly on top of her table and deposited an envelope in the brunette's awaiting hands. "Thank you," she said, brushing a finger on top of Daisy's head. The owl hooted in reply and opened her wings once more, then swooped out of the window.

Hermione curiously opened the envelope and pulled out the parchment.

_Dearest Hermione,_

_I'm just writing to tell you Sev and I will be gone for at least two weeks. Some marital bullshite, if you will. But more than that, we're going to search for a place to hide my family away from the brewing war. Petunia and Vernon have been petulant, though. I've tried to reason out that they'll be in mortal danger because You-Know-Who is merciless, but predictably, they only called me a freak and slammed the door in my face._

_So, okay. I also want to thank you for yesterday. The wedding was lovely, Hermione, and even our favourite sourpuss couldn't stop himself from smiling. That wasn't an easy feat! I was going through the photographs taken yesterday and I came upon one photo. I wanted you to have it, Hermione, because Merlin Almighty, I've never seen you so happy like that._

_I love you so much, Hermione. Please keep safe while Sev and I are gone. Don't do anything reckless without informing anyone._

_Love,  
_ _Lily Evans-Snape_

Hermione snorted and brushed a finger over Lily's name, having an inkling that the redhead merely wrote a letter to her just so she could sign her name as such.

She then glanced at the envelope and pulled out the photograph inside. Her eyes widened when she gazed at a picture of her and James from last night. The fairy lights were twinkling brightly around them as James suddenly twirled her around, prompting the picture Hermione to laugh. When James pulled her back, she tilted her head and grinned brightly at him. The picture would then loop from the start again.

Embarrassingly enough, Hermione admitted that she'd had _googly eyes_ when staring at the bespectacled wizard. Her face turned splotchy red as she transfigured a quill into a picture frame, just so she could slip the photo inside.

Hermione sat on her chair and placed her chin on top of her upturned palm, her blue eyes watching as the picture looped again and again. She tried to suppress a silly grin, memories of last night rushing back into her mind.

She would have stayed there for hours if she had been given the choice, but Peter barged inside her room and pulled her away for breakfast.

"What's gotten into you?" her brother asked with narrowed eyes.

She expelled a soft sigh and looped her arm around his. "Nothing, Petey," she claimed dismissively. "Come on. Mum's already waiting for us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing plot-heavy chapters is very, very exhausting for me so I wrote this chapter for the sake of my sanity hahaha. I hope you enjoyed this fluff-filled chapter! 
> 
> The Beatles's version of 'I Will' is amazing, but Imaginary Future's version was the one I imagined being played as Lily's wedding march. It's really lovely! You should try listening to it and reread that part hehehe. You're welcome. Also, that scene was very loosely inspired by the wedding scene from the movie 'Crazy Rich Asians'. You should totally check out that scene on Youtube because *sighhhhhh* it's so pretty.
> 
> So… am I finally forgiven for being such a bloody tease?
> 
> See you tomorrow!
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes)!


	45. chapter forty-four

* * *

**xxxxiv.**

_**the story needs some mending and a better happy ending** _

(Fairytale by Sara Bareilles)

* * *

**September 29, 1979**

A week ago, Professor Dumbledore sent her a letter saying he was already planning to send her on a mission to retrieve the last horcrux. A day before, he sent a series of instructions detailing her excursion. The only problem Hermione had, was identifying what excuse she would make so that her mother wouldn't get suspicious.

She was hoping Anya wouldn't be lounging in the living room watching her favourite drama show, as arriving at the Potter Manor through Floo would be easier, but once she walked out of her bedroom, Hermione heard the unmistakable lovely laugh of her mother and garbled conversation from the television.

Anya's eyes met Hermione's, her lips now faltering upon noticing her clothes. "Going somewhere, love?" she asked.

"Err…" Hermione nervously shifted on her feet and looked away. "I was thinking of trying to apply for a job at the ministry today."

There was a beat of silence after Hermione said her lie.

"On a Saturday?"

Hermione mentally cursed and sheepishly met her mother's eyes. Anya's eyebrows had flown up to her hairline and the brunette tried to come up with another lie. But Anya calmly turned off the television and stood up from the couch.

"Something's going on, isn't it?" she said, making it sound more like a statement than a question. When Hermione didn't answer her question, Anya sighed and tentatively approached her. "You know that you can tell me anything, right, sweetheart?"

"I know, Mum," Hermione murmured, her face crumpling at the worry and distress on Anya's face.

Anya closed the remaining distance between them and clasped her hand. "You can tell me, Hermione," she insisted. "I'm your _mother_. Whatever you're doing right now, it may be something I do not understand, but I'll try. Because I'm your _mother_."

"Oh, Mum." She threw her arms around Anya's shoulders and squeezed her tight. "I can't. It's—there are a lot of things I want to tell you and I don't even know where to start."

Now that the Marauders and her best friends, even Dumbledore and some of the leaders of the Order, knew about Hermione's past, there was a part of her that felt like she was betraying Anya for withholding such information from her. She had been a huge part of Hermione Pettigrew's life and Hermione couldn't shake off this niggling voice in the back of her mind that kept on insisting that Anya deserved to know, above all else.

But Hermione was afraid how her mother would take it. She was even more afraid that she'd forbid her from joining the Order and actively involving herself in the resistance. Hermione knew she wouldn't listen to her mother no matter how much she loved her, and she didn't want their relationship to be strained because of this.

So, Hermione pushed that voice back until it was silent once more. One day, she was sure she would tell Anya. But not today.

Anya slightly pulled away from Hermione, her blue eyes glittering with worry and unshed tears. "All right," she said with a disappointed frown. "But I will always be here for you, Hermione. Please always be careful, okay? Peter's job as an Auror already drives me on edge. I want my daughter to be safe too."

Hermione flashed her a small, sad smile and hugged her again. "I'm sorry, Mum," she whispered, tears welling in her eyes when she felt Anya place a kiss on her temple.

She then bid her goodbye and walked out of the house, striding towards the Apparation point. She rematerialised at the huge, oak door of the Potter Manor and used the doorknocker to make her arrival known.

On her third knock, the door swung open, revealing Pokey. The house-elf was now wearing a billowy skirt matching a lacy top. A cute, red ribbon was tied around her head and to complete her strange attire, she was wearing black kitten heels that made her a tad taller than her usual height.

"Hello, Pokey," she amicably greeted, prompting the house-elf to beam.

"Miss Hermione! Welcome!" Pokey exclaimed, ushering Hermione inside. "Perhaps some tea, Miss? Pokey made scones too when she heard the future Mistress of the House was coming!"

Her cheeks reddened at her casual address. "Don't bother," she said, placing a hand on Pokey's tiny ones to stop her excited pulling. "I have to leave soon enough."

Pokey's ears dropped, obviously dejected at Hermione's refusal. "Oh," she sadly said, her huge, golf ball-sized eyes glistening with tears. "Oh, Pokey understands. Truly she does."

Hermione bit her tongue to stop herself from relenting. This was a very important day after all and she couldn't afford to lounge around the Potter Manor, no matter how lovely and inviting the house was.

"Pokey, blimey, stop annoying the poor witch."

Her eyes widened as she met James's gaze across from the foyer. The wizard was leaning casually against the wall, clad in his usual Auror ensemble. His hazel eyes were glinting with amusement at his house-elf, who now was very much trying to stop her tears from falling.

"Pokey annoys Miss Hermione?" the house-elf squeaked with abject terror.

"No, oh no!" Hermione quickly exclaimed, awkwardly patting Pokey's head to mollify the suddenly distressed house-elf. She shot a glare at her snickering boyfriend before peering at Pokey's wide eyes once more. "You've been really sweet, Pokey, but I really can't afford to stay right now. I have matters to attend to immediately. But, maybe I can visit again soon so that you can serve me tea. Sound good?"

Pokey's eyes glittered again and she was now unabashedly sniffing. "Miss Hermione is too kind. Too kind, indeed!" she gushed out, reaching out to tightly hold onto Hermione's hand with both of her own. "Pokey will gladly serve the future Mistress of the House if she will let her!"

"Please stop calling me that," Hermione groaned, cheeks splattered with red, unable to look at James.

"Maybe it's best if you serve the _current_ Mistress of the House, Pokey, eh?" James suggested. The house-elf vigorously nodded her head and popped away, leaving the two alone.

Hermione awkwardly tugged her curls and tentatively glanced back at James. The bloody wizard was smirking, clearly enjoying how his house-elf had made her flustered. "Shut up, Potter," she muttered.

"I'm not even saying anything!" he exclaimed, followed by a laugh as he pushed himself off the wall and approached Hermione. "You're here early."

"Dumbledore said we'd be accompanied by some Order members today, so I figured I should come her sooner rather than later, in case I still have to get further instructions," she explained, allowing James to hold her hand and tug her towards the elegant divan in their foyer. " _Wait_ , are you going to accompany us today?"

James frowned and shook his head. "Moody has a mission for us today," he said with a disappointed sigh. "I'd rather join you in your horcrux hunt than run around with Pads and Wormy."

Hermione snorted. "Don't let them hear that," she said, smiling fondly when he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close.

"It'll take a week at most," he complained. "How am I supposed to see you?"

"You'll live, Potter," she laughingly pointed out. She craned her head and looked over her shoulder. "Sirius isn't here?"

James shrugged. "Last time I heard he's working things out with Marley again," he said. The corners of his mouth twitched into a bemused smile. "Padfoot is actually serious with her, look at that."

"Why is he still crashing at your place?" she asked. "I thought he said he was going to move out once he started working as an Auror."

"We've decided it'd be best if we both stayed in the Manor for now while… _you know_." James furrowed his brows in worry. "My parents aren't getting younger and although I do not doubt their magical prowess, I'll rest easy knowing they're safe and very much alive. Sirius loves my parents too, so he'd want to stay and protect them. It's… well… since the Headquarters is _here_ , might as well give as much protection to my home as possible."

Hermione comfortingly squeezed his hand. "The war will end soon," she resolutely said. "I promise. Voldemort is going down."

He gave her a lopsided grin. "I do not doubt your magical prowess either," he said. The smile on his face faltered as he ducked his head and worriedly met her eyes. "This Gaunt ring, though… procuring it isn't as dangerous as Slytherin's locket?"

"Well… I'm not exactly sure," she confessed, smiling apologetically when his lips rolled into a deep frown. "It was Dumbledore who got the ring last time. I _do_ know the ring is cursed so I'll make sure nobody touches it."

James expelled a tired sigh and leant his forehead against her shoulder. "There's really no stopping you, huh?" he asked. She felt his smile against her skin and she, with a soft, apologetic laugh, placed a kiss on top of his messy hair.

He pulled away when the fireplace blared emerald. Hermione quirked an eyebrow when Regulus, disguised as Sev's Muggle neighbour once more, elegantly walked out. "Is the disguise really necessary?" she asked for her greeting.

"I'd rather nobody recognise me today, Pettigrew," he coolly said. His eyes swept towards the silent wizard sitting beside her, and Hermione had to stop herself from rolling her eyes when James stiffened. "Potter."

"Black," he curtly replied.

James possessively looped his arm around her waist again and pulled her flush to his side. Regulus merely quirked an eyebrow and looked away, his eyes now quietly glancing at the different statues displayed in the foyer.

"That's not necessary either," she hissed under her breath, swatting his tight arm around her.

"You're really bloody oblivious regarding other people's feelings, Hermione," he complained. "It's plain as a day that Regulus Black has a crush on you."

"No, he doesn't," she hotly shot back. "This stupid jealousy is uncalled for."

He leaned closer, his lips inches away from her ears. "Just as long as you keep telling me you love me, then we're all good, Whiskers," he teasingly whispered, his warm breath erupting goosebumps on her exposed skin.

"You're incorrigible," she breathlessly replied, hyperaware how his lips lightly brushed against her skin. She felt James smirk, but Hermione was soon distracted when the fireplace turned bright emerald once more.

Hermione was instantly on her feet when Lily and Sev stumbled out. "What are you doing here?" she exclaimed in surprise, already running towards her best friends to give them a big hug.

"Well, hello to you too," Lily chuckled, grinning prettily at the excited brunette.

"Dumbledore asked us if we can accompany you and Black on your horcrux hunt today," Sev exclaimed, grimacing slightly when Hermione threw her arms around him as her greeting.

"But why?" Hermione cried. "You just got married and… and with Lily's parents—"

Lily smiled kindly and squeezed Hermione's arm. "It's fine," she said. "We've spent a few weeks together with my parents somewhere far away. It's been the best weeks of my life, but we both know that we cannot drown ourselves in marital bliss when we're still in the midst of war."

Hermione sadly smiled at her best friends, noting that they had this certain glow. Even Sev looked relaxed, _happier_ even, and Hermione felt guilty for ruining their honeymoon just so they could babysit her and Regulus on their horcrux hunt.

"Don't make a face like that, Hermione," Lily complained. "It's really fine. We both knew what we were getting into when we voluntarily joined the Order."

Before Hermione could answer, the fireplace roared emerald green again. This time, another couple strode out, pleasant smiles of greeting on their faces.

Hermione's eyes widened, beholding Frank and Alice Longbottom, clad in matching black robes and looking very much ready for a mission.

"Oh, hello," Alice greeted with a dimply smile.

"What are you both doing here?" James exclaimed, already striding towards the couple to shake hands with Frank and to give Alice a brief hug.

"I believe we have younglings to babysit," Frank cheekily replied, glancing at Hermione to send a wink her way.

Hermione, on the other hand, frowned. "Dumbledore asked you to accompany us too?" she asked, warily eyeing the Longbottoms. Up close, she was able to note that Alice shared Neville's sweet face, while his build most definitely came from Frank. It was a little disconcerting to see Neville's parents up and about, remembering their vegetable states back at St. Mungo's.

"Yes," Alice softly replied.

"Aren't we too many for this bloody mission?" Regulus gruffly asked.

Both Alice and Frank looked at him with bewildered expressions, prompting the disguised Black heir to snort. "It's Regulus Black in disguise," he dryly added.

"He can't afford to be seen with us," Hermione explained after throwing a brief glare at the disguised wizard. "But he's right. Aren't we too many? It might attract attention from the residents in Little Hangleton."

"After what happened with your last skirmish at the cave, Dumbledore reckoned you might need a lot of back-up," Frank answered, looking every bit like the proper, responsible, older Auror. He pinned Hermione with a piercing stare until she squirmed under his disapproving gaze. "We'd rather there wasn't any hitch during this mission."

"This mission is of utmost importance, after all," Alice placated, giving Hermione an apologetic smile. "Not being able to procure it is out of the question."

Hermione frowned. "I know that," she insisted. "Which is why I'll do everything I can to get it."

"And _that_ is the reason why Dumbledore wants you to have a lot of back-up," James pointed out in exasperation. He glanced at the other four and scowled. "Please, for the love of all good things holy in this bloody fucking world, don't let her do anything reckless."

"Coming from you, that's a hilarious request," Sev sneered. His sneer turned into a pained scowl when Lily swatted his chest.

"She's not going to do anything reckless, is she now?" Lily ground out, glaring lightly at the brunette.

Hermione groaned and turned to Regulus. "This horcrux hunt was loads better when it was just the two of us," she complained.

Regulus snorted and glanced down at the annoyed brunette. "Better to get out alive, Pettigrew," was his simple reply.

**-ooo-**

They all popped out of thin air at a spot right underneath a sign with the words 'Little Hangleton' written on it. The sign looked worse for the wear, worn down by age, nature, and neglect, and it was plain to see this town had seen better days.

"Where's the location of the ring?" Frank asked. He'd easily assumed the role of leader in this mission, and although it disgruntled Hermione, she reluctantly admitted that being accompanied by trained Aurors was a good plan.

"This way," Hermione said, but before she could walk away, Alice latched onto her arm.

"Wait," she said with a grim expression. "We really are too many for this mission. I think it's best if we get to the location under the Disillusionment Charm."

Frank slowly shook his head. "That is a plan, but it's getting dark," he said. "It'll be difficult to keep everybody in check." He pinned his wife with a meaningful glance. "Dumbledore said no one must get hurt, it's a simple mission."

Hermione wryly smiled at the word 'simple'. Biggest understatement of the year.

"What if," Lily tentatively added, "most of us Disillusioned ourselves while Hermione and Regulus stayed visible? They are the ones most knowledgeable after all. Technically, we're only their back-up."

"I have an even better idea," the brunette deliberately offered. "I'm a—" She threw a wary glance at their Auror companions. "Before I tell you my plan, you have to promise not to throw me in Azkaban."

The Longbottoms wore an identical expression of suspicion on their faces. "Why?" Alice quipped, a small frown now on her face.

Hermione sighed. "I'm an Animagus," she revealed. Her cheeks turned red and she refused to meet Alice's eyes. "Unregistered."

"Hermione!" Lily gasped in disbelief.

"Trust me, I was shocked too," Regulus drawled, quirking a small smirk.

"Promise me," Hermione egged on. "I… I do plan on getting registered, of course. But _later_ , after the war. After we've defeated Voldemort. The ministry will be too interested in me and I can't afford that." She pierced her gaze on the Longbottoms. "Do I have your word?"

Alice and Frank exchanged guarded glances. " _Technically_ ," Frank started, "we shouldn't be negotiating your case, especially with such a blatant confession of a crime."

"But," Alice added, "since we know that you're _technically_ not using your ability to break other rules, we can just pretend that we don't know anything at all."

The grimaces on their faces brought a smile on Hermione's. "I will register after the war. I promise," Hermione reassured, this time kinder. A snort then escaped from her lips as she added, "This isn't even the gravest law I've broken."

Frank broke into a wide grin. "Ah, yes. Gringotts," he pointed out.

"It was for a good cause," Alice ground out, an uncertain look on her face. "It was, wasn't it?"

"It was," Regulus supplemented.

"We should probably go," Frank said, assuming his role as the leader once more. "I'd rather we were done with this as soon as possible. Go on and change into your Animagus form, Hermione."

"What's your form anyway?" Sev curiously asked.

Instead of answering him, Hermione closed her eyes and willed the image of her Animagus form. The familiar melting of clothing and skin to morph into her furry body ran throughout her. When she opened her eyes, her companions were towering over her.

"So that's why they kept on calling you 'Whiskers'!" Lily exclaimed. "I've always wondered about that."

Hermione meowed in reply.

Frank, Alice, Regulus, Lily, and Sev all disillusioned themselves. "Let's go," Frank whispered from behind, urging Hermione to start walking.

The streets were mostly abandoned, with the residents of Little Hangleton still in their homes at such an early time of the day. Soon, the rows and rows of dreary houses turned into thick trees as they reached the outskirts of the little town. Hermione led them towards a dilapidated, wooden house, with gaping holes in the roof and peeling paint on the walls. The house was derelict, with overgrown vines and nettles snaking around the house and the dirty windows.

Hermione drew to a halt and meowed. She then returned into her human form and turned around to look at her Disillusioned companion, but then paused and gaped at the imposing, ominous Manor sitting atop a hill. From this view, the Riddle House could be appreciated in all its glory—or lack thereof. It was obvious from the structure that it had been one of the most beautiful houses in the town before. But now, with it wrapped in crawling nettles with peeling paint, the windows and huge, wooden door boarded up by various planks to keep out trespassers, it almost resembled the dilapidated hovel right behind her.

Her mouth ran dry as she spotted the church sitting beside the manor, with a huge stone cross on the front, marking the graveyard. Harry wasn't able to extensively describe his experience during the Third Task, when the Goblet of Fire had portkeyed him and Cedric Diggory to the graveyard. But he was able to tell them a ritual was made in that area, consequently making Voldemort corporeal once more.

"Pettigrew," a now visible Regulus called, touching her elbow to get her attention. "Focus."

She swallowed down a lump and forced herself to look away from the graveyard. "Sorry," she muttered, ignoring the worried glance he threw at her. She then purposively walked towards the rotten door, but then paused as a pulse of magic overwhelmed her senses.

"Can you feel that?" she asked, glancing at Regulus.

The disguised wizard nodded his head. "It has the same dark magic as back at the cave," he said.

"At least we know we're at the right place," she grumbled, slowly pulling out her wand to start diagnosing what kind of wards had been erected to protect the house.

Before she could cast a spell, an invisible force grabbed her arm and pulled her away. Hermione frowned and craned her neck, her eyes seeing the silhouette of her Disillusioned companion. "I'm just going to check what kind of wards that bastard has placed," she whispered.

"She's really good with ward magic, just so you know," Regulus dryly added.

She threw him a withering glare before waving her wand. As expected, Voldemort had placed exactly the same wards as the ones at the cave. "It needs a blood sacrifice again," she said with a sigh.

"I figured just as much," the Black heir murmured, already pulling out his wand and spelling an open wound on his palm. He squeezed his hand tight and allowed a few drops of his bright red blood to spill over the soil. There was another brief pulse before the rotten door creaked open.

Hermione stepped aside and allowed Frank and Alice to go inside first. They removed the Disillusionment Charm and disappeared inside the dark room.

"All clear," Frank said, poking his head outside.

Hermione and Regulus went inside immediately, with Lily and Sev closely following behind. Sev closed the door behind him then removed the Disillusionment Spell on him and Lily.

Hermione slowly scanned the dilapidated house. There was upturned furniture everywhere, cobwebs spun in every corner of the house, and rusting metal plates and cups littering the floor. This was _worse_ than Sev's house prior to being Lily-fied. Sev's house may have been unpleasant due to obvious signs of neglect, but the Gaunt's house was horribly thick with dark magic. The walls and floors almost had a greenish, ominous glow, as if the house was clearly telling them they were unwanted guests.

She slowly approached the ruined fireplace and spied a broken picture frame. A deep frown appeared on Hermione's face as her eyes observed the three people grimly blinking back at her. The eldest of the trio sat on a filthy, green couch, his wrinkly face withered with poverty and squalor. But, his dark eyes held a certain aloofness only a Pureblood bigot could sport. Her eyes landed on the glinting ring on his finger, noting that despite the dreariness of the place, the family ring spoke of fortune.

Her blue eyes then swept towards the man stiffly standing beside Marvolo Gaunt, his face almost identical to the older wizard, but less wrinkly. His expression was harsher, though, a menacing glint in his dark eyes, which stared in opposite directions, as he sneered at her in return.

And then, she glanced at the sole witch in the photo. Merope Gaunt wasn't beautiful. Her hair was lank and lacklustre, and her face was pasty white from malnourishment. Her eyes also stared in opposite directions like Morfinn Gaunt, and although marginally cleaner than the other two men, Merope stared back at her with tired resignation.

Hermione's fingers touched the face of the mother who would bring Voldemort into this world, wondering how things would have changed if she hadn't used a love potion to seduce Tom Riddle Sr. and hadn't died in childbirth.

"Where's the horcrux?" Alice asked, her voice cutting through Hermione's distracted haze.

She blinked her eyes and placed the broken photograph back onto the dirty ledge. "Voldemort hid it under the floorboards," she explained. Her eyes latched onto the rickety planks, grimacing at the thought that she could be very well stepping on top of the horcrux right now.

Frank nodded his head and glanced at Lily. "Evans—" He paused as a snort expelled from his lips. "Or maybe you'd rather be called Snape?"

The redhead's grin was out-of-place in the bleak house. "Lily's fine," she said.

"Right," the Auror said. "Lily. Dumbledore said you know a spell to detect horcruxes."

Lily resolutely nodded her head. "I practiced whilst we were on our honeymoon," she revealed, sheepishly throwing a smile at her husband. Hermione wondered how _often_ she practiced, seeing the disgruntled look on Sev's face. "Terribly dark, that spell is. Probably the darkest spell I've ever learned— save from the Unforgivables, of course. The downside of this spell is it zaps out a lot of energy from you, so you need a partner."

She reached out for Sev's hand, who easily grasped it in his own. "We'll do it together," she said.

"Is it safe?" Hermione worriedly asked. Dark magic, when used improperly, always had repercussions.

Sev scoffed. "Please, Hermione," he sneered, "we are more than capable of doing this."

She smiled faintly at his vehemence. "I was only worried for you both, but the sourpuss suddenly appeared," she said with a sigh, glancing at the smirking Lily.

"We'll be fine, Hermione," Lily placated. "It isn't _easy_ , that's for sure. But we've been practicing this for weeks - ever since Dumbledore asked us to accompany you on this mission. Just make sure that whatever happens, _no one_ can intervene. It'll be more disastrous if we aren't able to finish the spell."

Hermione paled. "That's not exactly helping, Lils," she claimed.

"Can't we just remove all of the blasted boards to see where the bloody bastard hid the ring?" Regulus matter-of-factly asked.

"Practical yes, but quite dangerous," Alice explained. "This is Voldemort we are talking about. I'm sure he's hidden enough deadly booby traps underneath the floorboards that would deter anyone from stealing his horcrux."

"Simply put, we're standing on a huge landmine," Frank said with lazy grin on his face. "The more precisely we locate the horcrux, the better."

Regulus sighed and grumbled something under his breath, but then stepped aside and let Lily and Sev through. The redhead stood at one corner of the room while Sev strode to the opposite corner. Lily wordlessly glanced at the Aurors, who both nodded their heads and stood beside Hermione and Regulus near the door.

"Ready when you are, darling," Lily crooned, prompting Sev to roll his eyes and lift his wand. "On three. One, two, three— _Tenebris Animae Inveniri_!"

Their voices reverberated through the dilapidated room, as a bright, golden light shot out from the tip of their wands. Their spells met in the middle and Hermione watched in amazement as bright sparks erupted from their combined spell, showering the whole floor with blinding gold.

" _Tenebris Animae Inveniri_!" they exclaimed once more, their voices louder, but shakier. The golden sparkles melted into liquid gold, coating each of the rotten planks. Lily, by then, had fallen onto her knees and Hermione shot forward out of instinct, but Alice grimly held her in place and slowly shook her head.

Hermione's heart seized with fear, noting the beads of sweat now forming on Sev's face. Lily was obviously gasping for breath, her two hands now shakily grasping onto her wand to keep the spell going.

" _Tenebris Animae Inveniri_!" they boomed again. The liquid gold siphoned back into their wand tips, and Hermione deduced this was the most difficult part as the impact of it brought Sev down to his knees too.

As soon as every drop of the liquid gold had disappeared, Lily fell flat on her face and didn't move. Hermione gaped at her unconscious friend, but Severus was immediately at her side, cradling her body against his chest.

"She'll be fine," he murmured, meeting Hermione's gaze from where he sat. He looked sickly and pale, a few strands of his fringe sticking onto his sweaty forehead. "She tends to pass out after doing this spell. Nevertheless, we've been successful."

Sev turned his head and Hermione followed his gaze. A single floorboard shone bright with liquid gold. Judging from the grim line on Sev's face, she concluded that was where Voldemort had hidden the Gaunt ring.

Frank and Alice immediately scrambled towards the glowing wood. Alice waved her wand and wordlessly yanked the wood away. Thick, dark magic engulfed the whole room, and familiar despair rose out from Hermione's stomach. Regulus flinched beside her as a dark shadow clouded his face.

"Merlin, I thought I'd never feel that again," he murmured under his breath, and Hermione knew he was thinking of their mission back at the cave.

"It's here," Alice declared. "The horcrux is here."

Frank's eyebrows furrowed as he slowly leant forward. His brown eyes turned glassy as he deliberately extended his fingers, intent on touching the cursed ring.

Horrified, Hermione hurtled a Stinging Hex at his hand, effectively shaking him out of his stupor. "Don't touch it!" she exclaimed. In three, big strides, she was kneeling beside the couple and was glancing at the ring. It was filthier than the one Marvolo Gaunt was wearing in the photo, but the black gem was unmistakable. It also held that strange, greenish glow Slytherin's locket had.

"I'm sorry," she apologised, grimacing at the wound on Frank's hand. "It's cursed. Anyone who touches it will experience a very slow, very painful death."

Frank paled and nodded his head in understanding.

"How do you know that?" Alice asked with wide eyes as Hermione absentmindedly grabbed onto a rusty metal plate and transfigured it into a small box.

"She studies a lot," Regulus excused. Alice obviously did not believe him, but she merely nodded her head and dropped the subject. The Black heir pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket, his initials embroidered on the silk material, and offered it to Hermione.

The brunette murmured her thanks and carefully wrapped the menacing ring inside the handkerchief. She then deposited it inside the box and locked it with vehemence. Her wand swished and flicked with inhumane speed, muttering a litany of warding spells until the suffocating dark magic was dispelled.

When she looked back at the Aurors, they were gaping at Hermione like she had grown another head. "I study a lot," she lamely replied, gratefully accepting Regulus's extended hand to pull her back onto her feet.

Lily, by then, had stirred awake. "Are you all right, Lily?" Hermione worriedly asked.

"I'm fine," the redhead said, followed by a wide yawn. "Were we successful though?"

"Yes," Sev said, concern in his dark eyes as he brushed some of her hair away from her face.

Lily expelled a sigh of relief. "Thank Merlin," she breathed out. "I never want to experience that again."

"We must leave," Frank announced. "Dumbledore set a time limit for the retrieval. If we have exceeded the allotted five hours, he said he'd send back-up."

"Well, that's terribly impractical," Hermione pointed out with a frown. "Not to mention _dangerous_. Voldemort would most definitely be alerted and become suspicious."

Alice kindly smiled at Hermione and placed a hand on her arm. "We can't afford to lose members now. Not when the pinnacle is approaching."

Frank reached for Alice's hand. "We must leave," he repeated. "Lily needs some tending to."

Hermione wordlessly followed them out, her mind already too overwhelmed with the fact that they had finally found _all_ of Voldemort's horcruxes. Her heart loudly thudded inside her chest, unable to stop her lips from stretching into a wide smile.

"We did it," she whispered, turning to face Regulus. Her eyes shone with unshed, happy tears, which wasn't left unnoticed by the Black heir.

Instead of sniping a snarky reply, Regulus gave her an uncharacteristic wobbly grin. "We did it."

**-ooo-**

They walked out of the Headmaster's Office after they had been dismissed by him. Hermione explicitly told him that, no matter what, he should never open the ring box and try to wear the ring, because it was cursed and they'd rather he was very much alive to bring Voldemort down.

Although the others had found her warning amusing, Dumbledore understood the meaning in her eyes. He resolutely nodded his head, hid the horcrux out of sight, and even placed a few of his chosen wards around the box too.

"Well, that was fun," Frank said, turning towards the younger members of the Order. His brown eyes swept towards Hermione, a grin now plastered on his face. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Hermione Pettigrew."

The brunette snorted when he even extended a hand. Nonetheless, she grasped it and gave it a firm shake. "Likewise," she replied.

"Goodbye," Alice said with a bright beam on her face. "Please be careful out there."

They wordlessly nodded their heads for their goodbye. Alice reached out for her husband and with one last wave of their hands, they walked away from the group.

The redhead, who now looked marginally better, turned to her best friend. "Do you want to come over for dinner, Hermione?" Lily asked. "It's been a while since we hung out with you." Her emerald eyes swept over Regulus, his disguise still in place. "You're welcome to join us too, Mister Rogers."

Regulus snorted at the use of his Muggle name and then glanced at Hermione, waiting for her reply.

The brunette shifted her gaze away and blurted out, "I have something else to do."

Lily and Sev paused in their walking and sharply glanced at Hermione. "What are you planning to do?" Sev hissed, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

"None of your business," she hastily said.

"Why are you acting shady all of a sudden?" Lily cried. She clutched both of Hermione's hands and forced her to look into her eyes. "You're planning to do something dangerous, aren't you?"

"It's not as dangerous as the horcrux hunt. I promise," she ground out, knowing it was futile to lie to these two people, who'd known her since she was eleven years old. Sev had pointed out one time that she was shite at lying.

Regulus tiredly sighed. "Is this necessary?" he asked. When Hermione nodded her head, he frowned. "Then fine. I'm coming with you. I'm sure you're going to act all Hermione Granger right now and be a reckless, idiotic Gryffindor."

"You were a Gryffindor in your past life?" Lily gasped, her green eyes lighting up in delight.

" _Of course_ you were a Gryffindor," Sev groaned with a flourished eye roll.

"We're coming with you too, right Sev?"

Hermione frown deepened when he firmly nodded his head. "You're both exhausted from the spell," she protested. "This is something I can manage on my own."

"Let's just get this over and done with so we can bloody sleep," Sev crankily replied.

Hermione scowled at the determined looks on her best friends' faces. " _Fine_ ," she relented. "Just don't think I'm barmy for doing this."

**-ooo-**

"You are most definitely barmy for doing this!" Sev cried in horror.

Hermione grimaced and ignored his exclamation, her eyes trained intently on the tombstone right in front of her. Tom Riddle Sr.'s name was embedded on the stone, together with the names of Voldemort's grandparents, who he had murdered on the same night. Amongst the other tombstones, this area was obviously reserved for the fallen Riddle family, boasting their fortune and prestige, which they had once held when they were still alive.

When they arrived back at Little Hangleton, her three companions had voiced out their surprise and curiosity. But Hermione purposively ignored them and strode in the opposite direction away from the Gaunt's house. They had been blessedly silent during their tense trek, but Hermione could feel the nervous glances they kept on darting at her back. They'd been mightily confused when they had arrived at the graveyard near the Riddle House, with Hermione determinedly bringing them towards the gravesite where the Riddle family were buried.

Hermione ignored their silent curiosity as she brandished her wand and started to remove the soil to unearth the casket beneath.

This was definitely something barmy, but Hermione had been distracted thinking about this graveyard ever since they'd left the horcrux in Dumbledore's care. Like the Vanishing Cabinet, Hermione felt like she had to do something to prevent a disastrous thing from happening in the future.

"What are you doing?" Regulus hissed, stomping forwards to glare at the determined brunette. "Pettigrew, this is insane!"

Hermione paused her furious digging and tiredly glanced at the other three. Identical looks of horror and confusion were painted on their pale faces. "In the year 1995, near the end of the school-year, Voldemort came back into power after his defeat in the First Wizarding War," she dully started. Her blue eyes landed back on the tombstone and she grimaced. "Since he still had his horcruxes, he was tethered to this very earth, but he had no body. Thus, he concocted a plan with one of his followers to trick the Chosen One into meeting him here, at this very graveyard."

She blinked back tears as she remembered Harry's horrified cries ringing throughout the Hogwarts grounds, desperately announcing to the whole world that Voldemort was back. "One of ingredients needed for his ritual was the bone of his father." She pointed her wand tip at Tom Riddle Sr.'s name. "And I know this is bloody barmy, and very much disrespectful to the dead but I can't—" She paused and took a deep, shuddering breath as a tear slipped down from her eye. "If things don't go according to plan, I just want to prevent Voldemort from finding any means to wreak havoc in the future and lead the whole Wizarding World into another war. So…" She trailed off and weakly gestured at the half-exposed casket. "That's why I'm doing this."

Lily's face crumpled as she took a step forward. "What can we do to help?" she asked.

Hermione gave her best friend a grateful smile. "Changing the names on the tombstones won't work because the Riddles were buried in a specific part of this graveyard, away from the ordinary dead," she explained. "So, what I plan to do is to switch his father's body with another corpse, just to trick Voldemort into thinking he is using his father's bone for his vile ritual."

When Regulus paled, she quickly added, "I'm going to return him to his proper resting place once everything's fine. I just… I will rest easy knowing I've botched up one of his future diabolical plans."

"You know that the future isn't set in stone," Sev pointed out. "Voldemort might just find another means of resurrecting himself."

Hermione sighed tiredly. "I know that," she said. "But I've changed a lot of things in this bloody timeline already. One more thing won't hurt."

"Fine," Regulus replied. "Where do you want the exchange to happen?"

She pointed at the opposite, farthest area of the graveyard, where the body of one John Smith lay. Lily and Sev placed various spells around them to ward them off from curious, Muggle eyes. Then, the couple worked on unearthing John Smith's casket while Regulus helped Hermione with her digging.

After making sure that no one was going to accidentally witness their bouts of magic, the four performed the switch. It took them a few more minutes to cover the caskets with soil once more.

"You know," Lily said as she and Sev walked back to where Hermione and Regulus stood, "this would have been unnecessary if Voldemort does die in this timeline."

Hermione wryly smiled and brushed a few of her wayward tears away. "I'm not going to take any more chances," she ground out. "I've lived through a horrible life before. I'd rather it doesn't repeat, especially since I can do something about it this time."

Lily sighed and linked arms with the younger witch.

"Let us go," Sev said. "It's been a long day for us all."

Her blue eyes lingered on the tombstone, grim relief blooming in her heart.

"Come on, Hermione."

She took a deep breath and smiled at Lily, allowing her to pull her away from the graveyard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Tenebris Animae Inveniri – roughly translates to "Dark soul be found". Thank you wizard god for online Latin translations ahahahaha
> 
> So yay, they got all of the horcruxes now. Just a heads up, a lot of your questions will be answered very, very soon.
> 
> Thank you so much to all those who still stick by despite how everything's starting to get a tad complicated. The last few weeks had been really shite (no exaggeration really). I'm on my laptop almost 8 hours straight without any rests because of online lectures and telemedicine and it's starting to trigger my migraine again lmao. I can't even read fanfics anymore smh! But yes, I still make time for my daily updates because I love this story very much hahaha.
> 
> So, that's it for now. See you tomorrow! I have a feeling y'all going to hate me tomorrow but oh well, I'm used to it anyway ahahaha.
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes)!


	46. chapter forty-five

* * *

**xxxxv.**

_**you're the universe i'm helpless in** _

(Venus by Sleeping at Last)

* * *

**October 10, 1979**

Anya politely excused herself and left the two wizards alone.

James threw a terrified glance at her retreating back, before hesitantly glancing at Peter. He had his back turned away from him, that ridiculous worn apron the Pettigrews loved to wear so much tied around his waist. Peter hadn't said a word ever since his confession and instead, had focused all of his might on washing the dishes. From the way he was handling the plates, however, James knew he would drop one soon.

He allowed the uncomfortable silence to stretch out long and tense. James wasn't sure if he was permitted to break it. One thing he'd learned after being best mates with Peter was that he should steer clear from him when he was in one of his foul moods. He might not resort to Bat-Bogey Hexes like his sister, but Peter still had the infamous Selwyn temper. His glares were enough to scare anyone away.

But, he'd been mulling over this for weeks. Hell, _months_ even! After everything that had happened, especially with Hermione's revelation, his resolve had grown stronger and stronger each day, until he'd had no choice but to act on it. Dumbledore had been ominously warning them that they were already at the height of war and must prepare for the worse. Hermione's last horcrux hunt was his wake-up call and James had owled Peter and Anya asking to talk. He didn't have any hesitations anymore.

"Peter," James called, steeling whatever Gryffindor courage he had. "Come on, mate. Say something."

His hazel eyes grew wide behind his glasses when Peter shoved the fragile plate onto the rack, ignoring completely how it shattered with the impact. Times like this, he wished Peter wasn't related to two terrifying witches. He really liked Peter the most when he just agreed to everything he said.

"What do you want me to bloody say?" Peter grumbled, his back still facing away from James. His shoulders were tense and James could see that a vein had popped on one of his temples. His Auror-trained reflexes heightened in alarm and although he highly doubted Peter would resort to hexing him, James still pulled out his wand underneath the table in case he needed to defend himself.

"Your mother already gave her blessing," he deliberately started. "So, I guess voicing out your blessing too will suffice."

"Why?"

James furrowed his brows when Peter whipped around fast. His face looked pinched, a mixture of anger and pained resignation etched on his pale face. James sighed, "Why _what_?"

"Why _now_?" Peter added, angrily whipping his wand from his trousers. James instinctively raised his wand, ready for combat, but Peter merely slashed his wand to _Reparo_ the broken plate. The sandy-haired wizard warily eyed James's wand, and the Potter heir reluctantly lowered his hand.

"Why _not_ now?" James replied, trying to lighten up the tense atmosphere with his ridiculous quip. But Peter's eyes had turned into thinner slits, obviously unimpressed by his joke.

Knowing that Peter wouldn't budge, James expelled a soft sigh and seriously looked at this wizard, who he considered his brother in everything but blood. "Because, we are at war," he simply explained. "And as much as we don't like it, Hermione's the most involved in all this bloody shite because of her past and her knowledge and—" He thickly swallowed as fear gripped his heart once more. He'd been accustomed to this feeling ever since they'd Apparated into his bedroom in the middle of the night, dripping wet and obviously shaken. Still, try as he might, he couldn't dispel his fear. "The future is uncertain, Wormy."

A fraction of tension left his posture as Peter slumped forward, his forehead now creased with worry and doubt. "We've already found all five horcruxes, James," he pointed out. "And we've destroyed one. The future may be uncertain, but it's most definitely on _our_ side."

"You don't know that," James said as a wry smile grew on his face. "Anything can happen in war."

"You speak like you've been through one before."

"We are in one," James reminded him. "And… and don't you see Hermione's eyes? How they always speak of endless horrors and grief that no eighteen-year-old should be burdened with? I'm sure Hermione Granger once upon a time thought they'd be able to win their own war but, here she is now, born as a different person in the hopes of running away from all the turmoil she'd experienced before."

Peter worriedly nipped his bottom lip and plopped down on the chair opposite James. "And you think doing _this_ will make everything better?" he incredulously asked.

James gave him a meaningful stare. "Why? Don't tell me you've never thought about doing this with Mary," he said. When Peter turned light pink, he smiled. "There you have it."

"But we've decided it'd be best if we do it after her Healer training," Peter explained. "Which will be years from now."

"Hermione's different," James said with a tired, heavy sigh, now frowning deeply at the tabletop. "Like I said, she's the most involved of us all. I worry about her _constantly_ and I thought, perhaps it would be best if I always stayed by her side."

"And you're not doing that right now?"

James dryly laughed and glanced back at Peter. "I am, but… but if things turn for the worse in this bloody war, might as well spend a few blissful months with her and fight alongside her."

Peter started rubbing the bridge of his nose, clear resignation on his face. "There's no stopping you now, is there?" he grumbled.

"I'd still love to have your blessing because she's your sister and _Merlin_ , you're truly terrifying if you want to be, Peter. Do you know that?" He grinned when Peter shot him a light glare. "But to answer your question: _yes_ , there's no stopping me. I've already made up my mind to spend the rest of my days with Hermione as long as I live and breathe. My parents bloody invited your family to a Pureblood dinner because they have known my intentions ever since we started dating. And maybe, _maybe_ I'm being a tad selfish here, trying to steal Hermione away from you and Anya, but after seeing Lily's wedding with Snape I thought… I thought…" He faltered as his cheeks turned red and a silly smile grew on his face. "I want that for myself too."

The wizard opposite him glanced at the ceiling and expelled a very tired sigh. "Fine," he breathed out. "Fine. Do whatever you want. But know this, James Potter, if you _hurt_ my sister—"

"I won't," James hastily replied, his smile now a blinding, full-blown grin on his face. "Marauder's honour."

* * *

**October 17, 1979**

"Are we expecting a visitor?"

Lily suppressed a smile on her face as she turned to her husband, trying to look as innocent as possible. "A visitor?" she smoothly asked. "What made you ask, oh darling of mine?"

Sev wrinkled his nose at her term of endearment, prompting her lips to twitch in amusement. "Because you're baking treacle tarts and no one in this house is very fond of them," he accused, glaring at the innocent treats sitting on their table.

She smiled at his conclusion and strode towards him. "Promise to be good today, Sev," she seriously said, a hint of warning in the tone of her voice. "I know this will be very uncomfortable for you but please, for the love of Merlin, just be nice today."

He'd grown very suspicious, his dark eyes narrowed into thin slits. "Who did you invite?" he growled.

"I didn't invite him," she quickly corrected. "He asked to meet us."

As if on cue, loud knocks from their main door reached their ears. Lily walked out of their small kitchen to open the door. A very uncomfortable James Potter stood on the other side, looking strangely impeccable for a casual home visit.

"Evans, hello," he nervously greeted.

"Not an Evans anymore, just so you know," she said. James merely shrugged, one corner of his lips lifting into a smirk. Lily stepped aside to give enough space for him to enter. "Come inside, Potter."

James murmured his thanks and tentatively walked inside the house. She watched in amusement as he awkwardly scanned their quaint, little house, most likely comparing it with his grand Manor. The Snape's house was as big as their foyer and Drawing Room combined, and it might be awfully cramped for a rich, Pureblood heir like Potter. But he immediately dispelled his momentary shock, hazel eyes now wide with nervousness alone.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

Lily rolled her eyes and looked at her bewildered husband. James knitted his eyebrows and glanced down at Lily. "You didn't tell him I was coming?" he asked.

She smiled and shook her head. "I wanted to surprise him because I was sure he wouldn't agree if I told him you wanted to visit," she explained.

"Like hell I would!" Sev angrily snarled. Lily quickly strode towards Sev to clutch his hand and mollify him.

"I've prepared treacle tarts," the redhead pleasantly said, her hold on Sev's hand tightening when the sourpuss started to growl. "Hermione said they're your most favourite treats."

James awkwardly fixed his collar. "Err, thanks," he said, trailing behind Lily and Sev when she led them to their small kitchen. Lily wordlessly pointed for him to sit on a chair, which he did. Potter by now, was nervously running a hand through his hair, the messy mop on his head now sticking up in various directions.

Lily sat Sev beside her, her emerald eyes unwilling to stray away from James. The bespectacled Auror chose that moment to help himself to a heap of treacle tart just to do something with his hands, but he couldn't bring himself to take a bite.

She waited for Potter to speak first, finding it highly amusing that her stare was ruffling his feathers. He'd always been a pompous, little shite, so full of himself and bloody cocksure most of the time. She wondered what had made him mighty nervous today, and not to mention why he'd reached out to Lily to ask if he could talk to her and Sev.

"Aren't you going to ask why I'm even here?" James blurted out, already getting flustered from the thick silence blanketing their small kitchen.

Lily placed her chin on top of her upturned palm. "I figured you were still trying to collect your composure, Potter," she said, smirking a bit when he flushed red. "So please, by all means, take your time. We have all the time in the world."

"No we don't," Sev curtly replied while James snorted in bemusement, matching Lily's smirk.

"I wanted to visit you both because you're Hermione's closest friends," he slowly started. "I want to get your blessing."

"Blessing?" Lily echoed, quirking an eyebrow. "What for?"

James took a deep, shuddering breath as a small, silly smile appeared on his face. "I'm thinking of asking Hermione to marry me," he revealed.

Comically, both of their eyes widened in shock. "What? That's brilliant!" Lily exclaimed. She'd always suspected that Potter was leaning towards that direction. Blimey, the way his eyes always lit up when Hermione was in the room with him already spoke volumes about how deep his feelings for the brunette ran.

"Why are you asking for _our_ blessing?" Sev sniped. "Shouldn't you get that from Hermione's family instead?"

James's face turned splotchy red as a sheepish smile bloomed on his face. "Anya and Peter have already given their blessings," he explained. "And – _well_ \- you see, according to Pureblood etiquette and tradition, the heir must also ask the blessing of his intended's closest friends. Something about bringing infinite luck to marriage and shite."

"Well, who knew James Potter was a stickler for bloody rules when he was such a staunch supporter of breaking them back at Hogwarts." Sev sneered.

The bespectacled wizard glowered. "If I'm going to marry Hermione, I might as well do it the _proper_ way," he ground out.

"Hermione wouldn't care for such things, you know," Lily piped in. "If she wants to marry you, she wouldn't care what our opinion was, especially if it was against hers."

"I know that," James snapped in annoyance. "But my Mum's going to go ballistic if she finds out I didn't get your blessings. So please, for the sake of my bloody sanity, just say that you're giving your blessings."

Lily wanted to torment this ridiculous man further. He'd been such an utter toerag during their Hogwarts years after all. But there was something about his expression, how his hazel eyes were steely with determination, and how his lips were pursed into a thin line, that almost blew Lily away. She thought she would be immune to James Potter's change of attitude, but seeing him so utterly serious was a delightful exception.

"Of course I'm going to give my blessing," Lily said, laughing when James comically breathed out a sigh of relief. "You've treated Hermione well for years. I can see that she's happiest when she's with you. I still think this Pureblood rule is ridiculous, but if it means my best friend will be happy, then what the hell. So yes, go on, marry her if you must."

"Thank you, Evans. Honest." The smile on his face stretched far and wide and Lily couldn't help but to match his grin.

He then turned his gaze at Sev, his smile faltering a tad bit. "Well?" he demanded.

"Do I really have to?" Sev whined. Lily swatted his chest and mouthed 'be nice', but her husband merely glowered in return.

"Hermione will hex him if she discovers this," the glowering wizard warned.

James slightly paled, but his gaze was unwavering. "Just say the bloody words, Snape," he ground out. "Then, I'll leave you and your greasy hair alone."

Lily snorted. "Clever insult, Potter, especially when he's not worn his hair like that ever since Hogwarts," she pointed out. "I made sure of it."

"If you're going to insult me, might as well end this meeting _now_." Sev darkly glared and stood up from his seat with so much force that his chair toppled backward.

James was instantly on his feet, a panicked look on his face. "Fine, _I'm sorry_ ," he stiffly said, as if pained. Lily's green eyes widened as the Potter heir practically begged Sev. "Just please, please, _please_ say it, Snape. Then I'm going to leave."

Lily pursed her lips and glanced at her husband, wondering if he'd relent to Potter's wishes. Despite how they'd obviously left him alone during their last few years at Hogwarts (Lily still wondered how in Merlin's saggy bum that had happened), they still disliked each other very much. The animosity between them was ridiculous, bordering petty, so it was understandable that Sev was having a hard time granting James's wish. He'd been unfairly bullied by this man, who had made his life miserable when he just wanted to get through Hogwarts in one piece.

But Sev loved Hermione just as much as Lily loved her. She'd been a wonderful friend to them both. Lily still thanked the blessed stars above their fiery best friend was the stubbornest person she'd ever met, because if it weren't for her, she and Sev might never have made up. Imagining how life would be without Sev seemed so far-fetched and bleak to her.

Thus, it didn't surprise Lily when Sev slumped forward in awkward resignation. "Fine, marry her for all I care," he sniped, although his tone of voice was lacking the venom he most likely wanted to convey. "But know this, Potter." His lips curled in disdain as he mustered his darkest glare. "If you _hurt_ Hermione—"

"I won't. Marauder's honour."

The way he stated these words, as if it was the surest thing in this world, made her heart leap into her throat. This was a man clearly in love, to the point that he'd willingly gather the moon and all the stars above if it meant Hermione would be happy.

Lily's eyes watered slightly as a silly smile spread on her face.

Hermione would be very happy with James Potter. Lily was very sure of that.

Sev, for his reply, stiffly nodded his head and looked away, his cheekbones dusted with red.

James had then quickly bid them goodbye. Lily glanced at his untouched treacle tart, remembering Hermione's words that he would never, _ever_ turn away from an offered tart, even if it was offered by someone he clearly disliked. Perhaps he'd been too preoccupied with his agenda today that everything else around him didn't matter.

"That was really nice of you, my love," Lily cooed, wrapping her arms around Sev's torso. She beamed brightly at him, unfazed by the embarrassed scowl on his face.

"I wasn't being nice," he weakly protested.

Lily laughed and buried her face against his neck. "He'll take proper care of Hermione," she said. "You know that, right?"

His warm breath washed over her forehead when he huffed out a small sigh. "I know," he replied.

* * *

**November 4, 1979**

Hermione felt that something very, _very_ bad was going to happen today.

It started at lunch, when she went out of her bedroom to share a meal with her family. She was pleasantly surprised to see that Peter was home. Throughout the whole meal Hermione was all smiles, happy that her family was complete, despite how busy Peter's schedule was and their involvement with the Order.

Anya was her usual sweet self, asking her children about the recent events in their lives. Her mother also recounted some funny anecdotes from work, and Hermione would laugh at the proper places and ask questions if something piqued her curiosity.

Peter, on the other hand, had been strangely quiet. Hermione tried to engage him with some benign, pleasant conversations, but her brother always answered with clipped, one-worded replies. It had greatly unsettled Hermione, because it was obvious he was bothered immensely by something. It didn't help that Anya kept on darting sad, understanding looks at her brother, but would then strike Hermione into another conversation, refusing to give her any opportunity to question whatever was wrong with the both of them.

After lunch and washing the dishes, Hermione announced that she'd promised to spend time with James.

"Wear the floral, red dress, sweetheart," Anya suggested. "I think it's his most favourite dress of yours."

Her cheeks reddened, remembering how his fingers had clutched the little ribbons tied around her shoulders, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "It's terribly cold outside, Mum," she said, but Anya pulled out a dark blue corduroy jacket lined with sherpa for her to don over her dress.

When she emerged out of her room, dressed prettily for her date, Peter surprised Hermione by pulling her into a bone-crushing hug. "You'll always be my favourite little sister," he thickly whispered.

Hermione blinked at him in surprise, a bemused smile stretched on her face. "Well, I am your favourite sibling by default so I'm not really sure if I should take that as a compliment," she joked. But Peter met her blue eyes with his glistening ones. It was obvious he was trying his best not to burst into tears and before she could question him about what was wrong, he'd already pulled away and locked himself in his bedroom.

"Is Peter all right?" Hermione worriedly asked when she saw her mother's sad smile.

"He'll be fine," Anya said, reaching forward to hold both of Hermione's hands. Anya was smiling, but Hermione couldn't help but feel there was a hint of sadness in her expression too. "I love you very much, Hermione. You and Peter are my whole world."

"You sound like I'm going somewhere far away," she worriedly whispered, squeezing Anya's hands in return. But her mother merely laughed and pulled her into a tight hug.

"Best not to keep James waiting, sweetheart." She then dropped a kiss on her hair and led her towards the fireplace.

Hermione frowned and glanced at her mother, but Anya had already thrown a pinch of Floo powder inside the fireplace. "Go on then," she urged, gesturing at the emerald fire. "Have fun."

The brunette nibbled on her bottom lip, wondering if it would be wise to just drop the subject all together. Anya urged her once more and with a resigned sigh, Hermione nodded her head and stepped into the Fireplace. "Potter Manor!"

When she walked out of the huge fireplace and into the foyer, she absentmindedly brushed soot off her jacket. Pokey instantly popped out and excitedly tittered towards her. "Miss Hermione! Welcome!" Although she was normally giddy, there was something about Pokey's actions today that made Hermione nervous. "Come, come. Master James is waiting for Miss in the Drawing Room."

Hermione almost tripped over her feet when Pokey excitedly grabbed onto her arm and pulled her out of the foyer. They breezed through the corridors, her wrist already starting to hurt from Pokey's grip.

They reached the Drawing Room in record time and Hermione noted with a grimace that her wrist was red from Pokey's tight hold. "Miss Hermione is here, Master James!" she exclaimed happily, pushing the door open with a flourished bang that made Hermione flinch.

"Merlin, Pokey, calm down," James greeted with a laugh.

To Hermione's utmost surprise, large tears welled in Pokey's golf ball-sized eyes. "Pokey is so happy. Very, very happy _indeed_!" She clasped her hands together and glanced back at her master. "Pokey can't wait for Master James to—"

" _Thank you_ , Pokey. You're now dismissed," James cut her off, his eyes wide with horror.

Pokey squeaked and slapped both of her hands against her mouth. "Pokey is sorry, Master James," she cried, her words muffled by her hands.

The Potter heir sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "It's fine," he said, followed by a snort. "I knew you'd be like this today. But you're really dismissed. Hermione's finally here." He met Hermione's confused eyes across the room and have her a lopsided smile. "Hi."

"Hi," she tentatively shot back, distractedly smiling at Pokey in goodbye, when the house-elf squeaked and Disapparated with a soft pop. "Where are we going?"

"Not too far," he said, already striding towards her and clutching her hand. "Come on."

Hermione bit her bottom lip to stop herself from asking any more questions. James was strangely nervous today and she hazarded that he'd dodge all of her questions no matter how persistent she was. Thus, instead, she curiously stared at his back and noted that he'd used Sleekeazy's on his hair today. Which was mighty _suspicious_ , because James was more comfortable wearing his hair naturally messy. He never really bothered styling his hair during their dates, which Hermione didn't mind.

Still, he looked handsomely dressed, with his odd ensemble of Muggle denim jeans and white button-down shirt with grey, thin Wizarding robes donned over the top.

He squeezed her hand reassuringly as he glanced at her, a small, secret smirk on his face. "I can hear your brain thinking very, _very_ loudly, Whiskers," he pointed out.

Her lips tugged into a small frown, feeling her cheeks heating up. "Well, you're acting very suspicious today," she replied matter-of-factly.

There it was again. The nervous glint in his beautiful hazel eyes, and Hermione's head almost burst with endless questions.

"Just relax, love," he urged, tugging her closer so that he could wrap his arm around her waist. He paused and then blinked, his eyes catching sight of the dress underneath her dark blue jacket. "You're wearing the red dress." His eyes met her blue ones again. "The one with the ribbons tied around the shoulders."

"Err… yes," she breathed out, swallowing thickly when his eyes considerably darkened.

"I love that dress," he confessed, a sly smirk growing on his face. "I wonder about it often."

Her cheeks turned into a brilliant shade of red, unable to stop herself from thinking of the reasons _why_ he thought about this particular dress.

Hermione was soon distracted when James led her away from the foyer and towards the back garden of the Manor instead. "We're not going out?" she asked since it was what she'd expected after all.

James smiled and shook his head, pulling the door open and ushering Hermione out into the frigid air. It was a lovely autumn day, with most of the trees in the Potter garden barren, as most of the golden leaves carpeted the yellowing grass. The air was still cold, however, and Hermione shot a dismayed look at her exposed legs, mentally berating herself for not opting to wear warmer clothes to protect her from the cold.

It was obvious now that James was taking her towards that small hill where the wooden cabin sat. But her eyes immediately magnetised towards the small arrangement on the field in front of it, where a stack of wood towered to form a proper bonfire. There was a blanket laid down near the unlit bonfire, with several throw pillows neatly piled on top. James's guitar lay not too far away, next to a basket brimming with food and drinks.

"A picnic?" she asked, a laugh bubbling out from her lips. "On a cold, autumn evening?" A teasing glint appeared in her eyes. "What will your mother think of this?"

James sheepishly smiled. "She might yammer about Pureblood etiquette and all that shite, I'm sure," he answered. "But my parents are currently away visiting family in Italy." Upon seeing the question in her eyes, he laughed and added, "I made sure they packed enough Dragonpox cure to last them a lifetime. You've been flooding them with supplies _endlessly_ , Hermione!"

She lightly glared as her cheeks turned red. "It's better to be safe," she petulantly said.

James merely snorted and pulled out his wand. He then shot various Warming and Drying Charms at her and himself. "But anyway, don't you remember that particular night, Whiskers?" He pointed his wand at the wooden pile and whispered a quick _Inciendo_. Fire licked out from his wand tip and spread throughout the wood until the bonfire was alit with a flickering flame, smoke slowly billowing heavenward. "The one with the bonfire?"

A fond smile appeared on her face when he sat her down on the blanket. "I do," she said. "It was the day I was able to successfully turn into an Animagus."

He snorted as he settled down beside her and absentmindedly lit all the fairy lights strung around the vast field with a swish of his wand. "That's not the only thing that happened that night," he said, his gleaming hazel eyes meeting hers with a meaningful glint in them. He then wordlessly reached for her cheek and pressed a gentle kiss on her lips. "This happened too."

She breathed out a laugh when she opened her eyes. "You were bloody drunk that night," she reminded him.

He stole another kiss and pulled away. "I wasn't," he confessed. "Maybe my head was fuzzy, but I clearly remembered everything."

"But you said—" She frowned when his cheeks bloomed red, his hands already busily draping a blanket over her shoulders.

"You have to admit that day was very confusing for the both of us," he said. "I was supposed to like Lily and you were supposed to be off limits because you're my best mate's little sister. But with the warm fire and your bright eyes and my buzzing mind… well, now that I've properly thought about it, I really wanted to kiss you that night."

He gave her a dazzling grin when he ducked under the blanket to press himself closer to her. "You really did something to my heart when I saw you taking care of Remus after the full moon."

Her eyes widened. "So that's why you were acting weird that morning!" James laughed as he waved his wand in the air. A bottle of wine and two glasses shot out from the picnic basket and into his awaiting hands.

"You had very pretty eyes that day, Whiskers," he confessed while pouring wine into the glasses. "I thought they looked like the sky during my most favourite of days."

Her heart leapt into her throat when he offered her a glass, his lips still stretched wide into that lopsided smile she had come to love so much. "You really have a thing with eyes, don't you?"

He snorted and lifted the glass against his lips to take a small sip. "It's the first thing I notice when I meet new people," he explained. "One time, Sirius said I was crazy obsessed with the eyes. I actually realised I liked Lily too because her eyes made me think of shooting stars during Astronomy Class." He paused and grabbed an apple and offered it to Hermione. "But you see, you can know a lot of things about a person just by looking at their eyes."

"And you know a lot of things about _me_ just by looking at mine?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow in bemusement.

He pinned her with his stare. "Not a lot," he admitted, "but… but I always wondered why you had very sad eyes."

The smile she showed was forlorn. "And now?"

"Still a bit sad," he said, reaching forward to cradle her jaw, "but you're making these googly eyes again."

"No, I'm not," she weakly protested, knowing full well that she _was_ , whilst staring back at this man who had become a huge part of her second life.

He grinned and leant down to give her a kiss, before pulling away to prepare the meal Pokey had made for their picnic date.

Her initial trepidation about this day had simmered into contented peace as she talked to James about almost everything. They'd tiptoed around her past, with James mostly wanting to know more about the elusive Hermione Granger. She'd indulged him with answers, making sure she'd never tell him too much about Harry Potter. She knew one day she'd have to tell him about Harry, especially now that they were nearing the destruction of all of the horcruxes, but Hermione wasn't ready yet. How was she supposed to tell him that this version of Harry, this best friend that she had loved more than life itself, wouldn't exist anymore, because his mother was married to another and his father was in love with her?

 _No_ , she would save that worrying for another day. There was no room for difficult questions today.

Thus, Hermione pushed those thoughts away and comforted herself by snuggling deeper into James's warm embrace. The gibbous moon was already high above the night sky and the flickering fire was already dwindling. It had started to get colder once more, but Hermione didn't want to move too much, already comfortable with her position.

James had become more fidgety as the night drew on. His hold on her was tense and tight and he was emitting this nervous energy that made her edgy again.

"What is it?" she asked, pulling away to look at him. "What's wrong?"

His hazel eyes widened, immediately looking away from Hermione and emitting a strangled chuckle. "Nothing's wrong, Hermione," he appeased.

She narrowed her eyes and was about to persist, but there was a sudden loud rumbling from the grey clouds. Her blue eyes flickered towards the sky, noting with dismay that cumulonimbus clouds now covered the beautiful moon, obscuring its light and the stars glittering around it.

"No," James groaned, growing panicky when lightning flashed, followed by booming thunder. "They said it wouldn't rain today!"

Hermione glanced at him in amusement. "We can just continue our date inside," she offered matter-of-factly, but James was vehemently shaking his head.

"No, no, _no_ , I planned this evening perfectly," he said, jumping onto his feet when light rain started pouring down from the sky. His anxiety had increased ten-fold and Hermione grew concerned. James then looked at her with so much seriousness, prompting her brows to furrow, nervous as to why he was wearing that expression again. "I guess I really have no choice but to do it now."

He looked marvellously defeated, but what was curious was how furiously he was blushing. James looked absolutely flustered and so unlike his pompous self that her initial bad feeling about today resurfaced again. She warily eyed him as he fell down onto both of his knees and earnestly peered into her blue eyes. "Hermione," he started, "I love you."

Her eyes widened, clearly not expecting such an exasperated declaration of his feelings for her. A nervous laugh slipped out of her lips when he tightly held both of her hands in his. "Well, we established that months ago," she joked, trying to dispel the uncomfortable tension that had seemed to envelope them both. "And I-I love you too, James. You know that."

His tension eased a bit as a small, fond smile flittered onto his face. "And Merlin knows I don't deserve you at all," he said, moving closer to cup his hand against her cheek. He brushed away some of the rain that had splattered onto her soft cheek. "But you see, despite your complicated past, I think we really are destined to be with each other. Don't you agree?"

She thickly swallowed and tentatively smiled, unsure where his little speech was going.

"I love you, Hermione," he repeated, his voice stronger and louder, as his eyes grew steely with utmost certainty. "And I know, _I know_ that the future is uncertain. We are in the midst of war and anything can happen. And you— _you're_ mighty determined to bring Voldemort down, even if it costs you your life. And that scares me shiteless because I don't want to lose you in this war, Hermione. Not when I've finally found my way to you."

Her heart lodged in her throat, watching in horror as James rummaged inside his robe pocket and pulled out a small, black velvet ring box. Her eyes swam with tears when he tentatively opened the box and revealed a beautiful ring, with a sapphire stone surrounded by leaf-shaped diamonds strewn across a silver band. "James, I—" Panic trampled whatever words she wanted to say, rising up from the deepest recesses of her heart and wrapping tightly around her, until Hermione couldn't breathe.

"Hermione, will you marry me?" he softly asked, his hazel eyes shining as brightly as the sapphire gemstone. "I want to spend the future by your side. Will you let me do that? I want to take care of you, and wake up beside you, and build a lovely home with you. Please, Hermione, will you let me do that?"

Her chest started to hurt as more tears tumbled down from her eyes. "Oh, James," she whispered.

Confusion appeared in his eyes, which turned to pure terror when Hermione pulled both of her hands away.

"I'm sorry," she cried, already climbing to her feet. "I–I need to think. _Clearly_. I'm—I need to."

She slowly backed away before turning around and Apparating on the spot, with James's distressed face burned into her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Patience, my loves. See you tomorrow!
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes)!


	47. chapter forty-six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warning: I'm not sure if I should be putting a warning but this fic is rated 'Mature' for a reason lmao so yeah. 
> 
> You should totally listen to "Give Me Your Fire, Give Me Your Rain" by the Paper Kites. This song fits the mood of this chapter perfectly ahaha

* * *

**xxxxvi.**

_**but still they lead me back to the long winding road** _

(The Long and Winding Road by The Beatles)

* * *

**November 4, 1979**

The rain had become torrential. Hermione found herself materialising a few blocks away from the Snapes' House. Tears steadily streamed down from her eyes as she tore through the empty streets until she was standing in front of their lovely, wooden door, drenched to the bone and very much distraught.

She loudly rapped her knuckles against the door, mentally berating herself at the same time for not thinking this through. Lily and Sev may still be away for work, making this whole visit a waste of time.

But then, she heard the quiet shuffling of footsteps from the other side of the door, before it was yanked open to reveal a disgruntled Lily. There were still remnants of sleep on her face and her hair was dishevelled, and Hermione felt guilty all the more.

"Hermione!" she cried in surprise, her disgruntled face morphing into unadulterated shock upon seeing her best friend. "What in Merlin's name are you doing out in this bloody storm?"

"I-I'm sorry," she sobbed, lifting her hand to haphazardly wipe away the tears and rain on her cheeks. "I didn't know where else to go. This was the first place I thought of and—" She trailed off as more tears slipped down from her eyes.

"Oh, Merlin, what's wrong? What happened?" Her deep concern only prompted her to cry harder.

"James," she whispered. "It's James. He proposed to me and… and… _why_ did he have to do that?"

Lily's emerald eyes widened in shock. "You didn't—"

"No," she said, cutting her off as she glumly shook her head. "I didn't."

She could see the numerous questions running inside the redhead's mind but Lily swallowed them all and ushered Hermione inside. The older witch then pulled out her wand and spelled her dry and warm, then brought her towards the squashy couch in their living room to sit her down.

Lily took the seat behind Hermione and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, patiently waiting as Hermione continued to cry. She hadn't said a peep, even when Hermione jumped onto her feet and started to wear their carpet down, murmuring words faster than a flying snitch in between terrified sobs, until she was shaking and quiet and very much tired.

Lily disappeared into the kitchen, only to return with a steaming cup of tea. Hermione murmured her thanks and accepted the hot beverage and laid it on the coffee table.

"Why?"

She directed her red-rimmed, watery eyes towards her best friend, noting the confusion on her face. "Why what?" she rasped, voice raw and scratchy from her constant sobbing.

"Why didn't you accept the proposal?" she gently asked. "Why did you run away?"

Hermione closed her eyes and quietly shook her head.

"Everybody can see that James Potter would give you the world if you asked for it, Hermione," her best friend continued. "And I thought… I thought you'd do the same for him."

Her heart throbbed painfully inside her chest, unwilling to accept Lily's simple claim, knowing that _that_ wasn't supposed to happen. "Lily," she answered instead, "don't you really love James? Don't you have any feelings for him?"

Lily sputtered out a disbelieving laugh. "Hermione, I'm _married_ to the man I love!" she exclaimed. "Why are you so adamant on getting us together?"

"Because James is not supposed to love me, Lily," she vehemently replied. Lily's eyes widened and Hermione's tears increased. The emerald eyes staring right back at her was too painful to look at, forcing her to look away and stare unseeingly at her hands.

"But he does," Lily said, reaching forward to place a comforting hand on her arm. "He really does, Hermione." She squeezed her arm until Hermione had no choice but to look at those emerald eyes once more. "I'm not sure if he's told you already, but James freaking Potter willingly came to my house, _Sev's_ house, to ask for our blessing to marry you. Some Pureblood shite he wanted to adhere to, because we're your best friends and he wanted to do it properly because he _loves_ you."

Lily's eyes turned surprisingly sad. "I don't really understand why you're freaking out over this. I thought you loved him very much too."

She thickly swallowed. "Because if I say yes to James, the person I love the most in my previous life, the reason why I continued to trudge on and continued fighting in that awful, tiring war, will cease to exist."

Lily was flummoxed by her words, her hold on Hermione's arm slackening.

"So I can't marry James. Not when I feel like I'm robbing him of the chance to live a happy life in this world." Bile rose up from her stomach when she spied Lily's wedding ring, mentally berating herself for not fighting too much to keep Harry alive in this world. She hated how she momentarily forgot Harry during Lily's wedding, mind and heart too blinded by James's beautiful eyes and lopsided smile. She hated how she'd momentarily forgotten Harry during their wedding because she wanted her best friends to be genuinely happy.

Hermione felt like she'd betrayed Harry, even though she had worked tooth and nail to follow him to the ends of the earth, vowing to keep him safe. She'd failed him once when she was unable to rescue him from the Death Eaters. She didn't want to fail him again.

Her mind started to race, trying to come up with a solution on how she would get Lily and James together. Sev might hate her for the rest of her life, but that wouldn't matter once Harry Potter was born. James may never talk to her again, his wounded expression briefly resurfacing in her mind, and although it would be too painful for her, everything wouldn't matter once Harry Potter was born.

"Hermione."

All her thoughts halted. There was something in Lily's tone that made her look sharply at her. The expression on her face was serious and firm, but there were also tears gathering in her green eyes. Lily looked very much like Harry Potter right now, with that quiet resolution that was unparalleled and clear, green eyes that merely wanted the whole world to be a better place for everybody.

Her face crumpled when sobs shook her shoulders. "Hermione," Lily said, gentler this time, "if this person loves you as much as you loved him, I don't think he'd appreciate it very much if you set aside your happiness for the sake of his."

Lily shifted on the couch and gathered Hermione into her arms. "You are a wonderful person, Hermione. Do you know that?" She traced soothing circles on her back and Hermione clutched to the back material of her nightgown like her life depended on it. "The love you give to others is wonderful and unrivalled. I'm sure this person appreciated everything you did for him. I may not personally know him, but if he had you as a friend, I think he'd want you to be happy. More than anything else in this world, in fact. You can't live in your past, Hermione. Not when you can give so much to this world – your _present_. Besides, you've said this before: you're not Hermione Granger anymore. You're Hermione _Pettigrew_. If you fully accept this simple fact, then what's holding you back from becoming happy in this world?"

She slowly pulled away and peered at Hermione's face. There were already tears slipping down from her eyes but Lily didn't seem to notice. "Live a happy life, Hermione. Please. You, of all people, deserve to."

Her breath hitched and her watery eyes widened. Lily had a kind smile on her face, already brushing the tears away from Hermione's face. For a moment, her face morphed into Harry's, the emerald eyes the very same. The smile Lily wore was exactly like the one Harry had worn during his very last minutes alive and when he'd breathed out, "Live a happy life, Hermione." Hermione's face crumpled. More sobs escaped from her mouth as she buried her face in Lily's neck.

**-ooo-**

She inhaled a lungful of soot when she stumbled out of the fireplace. During her coughing fit Pokey appeared, releasing a gasp of surprise at seeing the brunette.

"Miss Hermione!" she cried, zooming toward Hermione with amazing speed. "Pokey thought Miss was with Master James!" Her eyes glittered with excitement. "Did Miss Hermione accept the proposal? Will Miss make Pokey very happy by promising to be the Future Mistress of the House?"

A watery chuckle escaped her lips as she brushed off the soot from her shoulders. "Pokey," she firmly said instead of answering her numerous questions. "Where's James?"

Pokey furrowed her furry eyebrows. "Pokey hasn't seen Master James," she slowly said. "Pokey thought Miss Hermione was with Master James!"

Loud thunder boomed outside, echoing throughout the spacious foyer. "Oh, Merlin," she groaned, already having an inkling as to where James would be right now.

"Is everything all right, Miss Hermione?" Pokey asked, suddenly looking worried.

"Everything will be soon, I hope," she sighed. "Thank you, Pokey. I must look for James now."

The house-elf still looked confused, but Hermione didn't stay long enough to notice, and instead ran towards the back of the Manor. She yanked the backdoor open and almost backpedalled at how strong the downpour was. Hermione was undeterred, however, pulling out her wand from her pocket and spelling a small shield overhead to act as her umbrella.

Hermione splashed through the wet field, her boots making squelchy noises along the way. She almost stumbled and fell down, but Hermione continued running, her wildly beating heart propelling her to continue, hoping against hope that she hadn't botched everything up.

She neared the cabin and saw the little picnic James had prepared for her was still there. The bonfire had been long extinguished by the torrential rain, with billows of smoke rising up into the sky. The blankets and throw pillows were already drenched with rain but James… James was nowhere to be seen.

Hermione started to panic, her eyes wildly sweeping around in search of him. A white figure nearby caught her eye and as she ran closer, relief flooded her upon recognising James in his Animagus form. The stag had also noticed her arrival, for he tried to trot away.

"No, wait!" she cried when James turned around, ready to bolt away from her. "James, please, let me speak!"

Blessedly, he stopped, but James still didn't turn around. Tears welled up in her eyes once more and Hermione tried to speak, tried to form words despite her jumbled mind. She was choking up with overwhelming emotion, with Lily and Harry's words echoing repeatedly inside her head.

_Live a happy life, Hermione._

"I'm sorry, James," she whispered in defeat. The stag made a strange noise that sounded like a huff and he tried to run away again, but Hermione called out his name, forcing him to stop.

"I'm sorry I ran away," she continued, lifting one hand to wipe away her eyes. "I got… I got scared. _Very_ scared."

Hermione slowly approached him, her keen eyes never leaving his form. Even in his stag form, she could see that his shoulders were tense. "You have to understand that I have knowledge of the future, James," she deliberately continued. "I know how things will end up if I don't intervene. And… and I sure as hell know that falling in love with you will be bloody disastrous." She glumly closed her eyes and took a deep shuddering breath. "But I ended up doing it anyway and it still confuses me very much why in Merlin's name you feel the same way too."

James slowly craned his neck upwards and met her eyes.

"I'm scared," she repeated again. "I'm scared that if I continue to do this, repercussions will happen that will be too painful for me to endure. I'm scared that if I continue to do this, the better future I hoped for will not be realised because… because my best friend—" She swallowed down a sob and brushed her fringes away. "But what scares me more is imagining a future without _you_ in it."

She swore the stag stopped breathing all together, but Hermione wasn't finished. "The future is uncertain, I know," she continued. "But… but I understand now, that despite all the uncertainties and doubt I'm feeling right now, the only certain thing that I know is that I love you."

Hermione dared to take a few more steps as a shaky smile grew on her face. "So yes, yes, _fuck it_ , yes, I'm going to marry you, and take care of you, and wake up beside you, and build a home with you. I'm so tired of not being happy anymore. I love you, James. Yes, I will marry you."

It felt like everything had stilled and all Hermione could hear was her loudly beating heart and the blood rushing in her ears. Even James hadn't moved, and Hermione didn't dare move either, lest she drove him away and lost her chance forever.

And then, James changed back into his human form, his hazel eyes bright and gleaming and wide and so, _so_ beautiful. Hermione distractedly wondered where his glasses were, but James was suddenly in front of her in three big strides. All she could see was how he was breathing heavily, his gaze intense.

"Say it again," he breathed out.

A soft laugh escaped from her lips. "Which part?" she asked. "I've said a mouthful of words and—"

"Hermione!" he cut her off in exasperation. "Say it again. The last part. Loud and _bloody fucking clear_ , like you truly mean it, sweet Merlin."

She grinned widely. "Yes," she repeated. "I will marry you."

James yanked her towards him and covered her lips with his mouth, eagerly kissing her and swallowing her stifled laugh. Hermione stood on her tiptoes and looped her arms around his neck. Now, without the protection of her makeshift umbrella, hard, cold rain washed over her form.

Hermione laughingly pulled away. "It's bloody raining!" she exclaimed. "We should get inside."

He grinned and stared down at her for a few moments, gently brushing away the wet curls that stuck to her face. Then, instead of pulling her towards Potter Manor, James led her into the nearby cabin. Without the werewolf inside, the cabin easily gave them access, allowing James to pull the door open and usher them both inside.

The lamps mounted on the wall instantly illuminated when they entered. Hermione pattered towards the fireplace and shot a quick spell at it to make the room warm and toasty. She noted in amusement how she was dripping all over the place and she immediately shrugged off her jacket, heavy and cold from the rain.

When she turned around to look at James, her smile faltered. His eyes held this intense gaze, reflecting the flickering fire behind her. He'd also shrugged off his grey robes, revealing his white button-down shirt and denim jeans. The shirt hugged his muscles, which rippled through the thin fabric.

James slowly approached her and Hermione couldn't look away from his gaze. Her heart thudded loudly at each step he took and by the time he'd reached her, she realised she was pressed against the wall, effectively trapped between that and the mesmerising man in front of her.

He reached forward and cradled the back of her head. His lips were upon hers once more, his mouth moving more fiercely and urgent. Hermione's eyes fluttered closed as she braced herself upright, placing her hands against his chest. Warmth pooled in between her thighs and she pressed herself closer to James, wanting to feel him more.

James broke the kiss but his lips never left her skin. He trailed slow kisses down her jaw until he reached her neck. He nipped a particularly sensitive spot at the junction between her neck and shoulder, prompting her breath to hitch and for her to grab a fistful of his shirt.

"Tell me, Hermione," he breathed out. One of his hands grasped the end of the ribbon tied around her right shoulder. "Tell me what will happen if I pull this."

Hermione thickly swallowed, her fingers weaving through his damp, messy hair. "Why don't you pull it to find out?" she whispered in return.

James took a sharp intake of breath and quickly met her eyes. His pupils were blown wide with want, almost dark brown and dangerous. His hold on the ribbon tightened and when Hermione didn't make any move to stop him, he yanked the ribbon in one single pull. The right side of Hermione's dress fluttered open, revealing a black bra. Her cheeks darkened when his eyes glanced down at her chest, followed by a breathy expletive. Then, he was kissing her again.

His kiss grew hungrier as his other hand yanked the other ribbon. Hermione quivered when he brushed his fingers against her covered breast before unabashedly cupping it in his palm. A quiet moan escaped from her lips when his thumb padded against her pebbled nipple, and Hermione shivered once more.

"Cold, love?" he asked, breaking free from her lips to allow her a few gulps of air.

"A-a bit," she stuttered. She softly laughed when she crumpled his shirt with both of her hands. "Your shirt is cold and wet."

Without asking for his permission, she started to pop the buttons open. James eagerly helped her and met her in the middle, immediately shrugging his shirt off once the last button came undone. Hermione appreciatively marvelled his toned chest, a few tufts of hair grazing the muscular expanse. Auror training had been really kind to James.

She extended her hand to place it on his chest, but James caught her wrist to stop her from doing so. Her eyes flew to his face and underneath all of the swirling emotions in his hazel eyes, James was tensely staring at her, a silent question in his gaze.

This was the final line to be crossed. And James knew that. He'd been very careful with his actions in the past, trying to rein in the obvious desire in his eyes every time he'd kissed her and pulled her close. The hard poking against her thighs every time she kissed him already spoke volumes of how much he wanted her, _all_ of her, and he had been patiently waiting for Hermione to give him permission.

But the fact was, the line had long been erased, slowly obliterated with every kiss, every touch and every breathed word of affection. She'd long knew she wanted all of him too, but had been too scared to breach those dangerous waters because of how she still lived in the past, dead set on keeping Harry alive and to give him the happiness he deserved, even when the future had been bloody uncertain now that she was _here_.

And so, with a small, fond smile, she tried to reach forward again. James's hold on her wrist slackened, his hand slipping back to his side, and when Hermione placed her hand right where his heart was, he took a sharp intake of breath.

"Take me to bed, James."

The steady pulse underneath her palm had grown stronger and was pounding. James didn't need to be told twice as he set into action, yanking Hermione towards him and hoisting her upwards. Hermione instinctively wrapped her legs and arms around him, her eyes never leaving his face.

His hold around her waist was tight and secure and James started the slow trek towards the bedroom in the cabin. He started to kiss her again too, stopping countless of times just to press her against the wall to trace his tongue along the curve of her neck. Along the way, Hermione had discarded her bra, tossed carelessly aside as skin against skin preoccupied their minds.

Finally, _blessedly_ , James kicked open the bedroom door and stumbled inside. Hermione slowly slid down from his embrace, dragging a groan out of James's mouth when her breasts skimmed against the expanse of his chest. He pulled down her half-opened dress, now a messy pool at her feet, and Hermione stepped aside, now only clad in her knickers and nothing more.

"Fuck, Hermione," he rasped. His lips were pressed near her ear, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine. "Do you even know what you're doing to me?"

She whimpered when his teeth lightly grazed the sensitive spot near her earlobe. His lips captured hers once more, and he pushed them both onto the bed until they'd fallen down on it with a huff, unwilling to break their kiss.

James pried her knees open and skimmed his fingers down her inner thigh. The ache in Hermione's navel tightened, and she hissed softly when he brushed his fingertips along the hem of her knickers. James smirked against her neck and in retaliation, she tightened her grip on the back of his messy mop of hair.

"Very impatient," he rasped with a low chuckle, his dark eyes briefly meeting hers. James dropped a searing kiss against her lips and continued his trek downward until he captured one of her taut nipples. Hermione expelled a stuttering gasp, her back involuntarily arching as his tongue darted out. At the same time, James slipped a finger inside her knickers and murmured a soft curse against her breast. "Fucking hell, Hermione, you're very ready for me, aren't you?"

He pulled away to yank her knickers down her knees and Hermione impatiently shrugged them away and onto the floor. James met her lips while he plunged a finger inside her wet folds. He swallowed her gasp and worked hard to please her. She squirmed when the pad of his thumb brushed against that sensitive bundle of nerves but it wasn't _enough_.

She clawed at his trousers, her palm skimming over his obvious bulge. James groaned and Hermione took that as encouragement to undo his buttons. With her odd position, she fumbled with her fingers, prompting her to exhale a frustrated breath.

James grinned against her lips and did it for her instead. He braced his arms against her side, allowing her to yank his trousers down. She thickly swallowed at his thick member and blushed, her eyes shyly glancing back at James's face.

"Look at that," he huskily replied. "I'm very much ready for you too."

He kicked off his trousers until they joined her knickers on the floor and positioned himself properly once more.

And for a moment, they stilled. Chests heaving, breaths mingling, eyes shining, Hermione's heart lurched at the expression on James's face. His cheeks were flushed from exertion and desire, and his hazel eyes were almost dark brown. His lips were swollen from their furious kissing and there were already beads of sweat on his forehead. Despite the darkness surrounding them in the bedroom, his face was open and radiant, like the bright sun on a clear, blue day.

She slowly lifted a hand and buried her fingers in his messy hair. "I love you, James," she breathed out quietly, _reverently_. Her blue eyes slightly watered, disbelieving at how she'd almost ruined this chance of being happy with someone like him. James had quietened the storm in her mind, calmed the ferocious tides in her heart, and soothed the aches her past life had given her. How could she constantly deny to herself that if she were to be happy in this second life she just had to stay by James's side?

Her eyes fluttered closed when he leaned down again, whispering a soft 'I love you' in return before his lips covered hers. A startled gasp escaped from her lips when he slowly inserted inside her wet folds, taking a moment to let her stretch for him. She keened when he deliberately drew back, only to stutter out a clipped breath when he snapped his hips quickly with a mighty thrust.

Moans in staccato tumbled out of her lips with each thrust as she clawed at his back. James murmured incoherent words against her skin, kissing her everywhere his lips could touch. His hand had travelled down between her thighs and he'd started to rub her sensitive bulb.

Her walls quivered, tightening around him, and an impending pressure built behind her navel. With each thrust, she was brought nearer to the edge and Hermione begged for the inevitable release.

"Open your eyes, Hermione. Look at me."

He stopped all movement and waited for her to open her eyes. Blue soon met hazel and James tensely watched as he thrusted again. Hermione expelled a soft cry, her eyes rolling. His fingers dug against the flesh of her hip and her eyes snapped back towards his face. "Look at me," he repeated, his thumb swiping against the bundle of nerves as he thrust deeply.

In two, deep lunges, a wave of pleasure shot through her body. Hermione tightly closed her eyes and huffed out another cry, desperately clinging onto James. He stilled as she quivered against him and only when the crashing waves of pleasure had receded into peaceful satiation, did she meet his eyes again.

She felt marvellously tired but very much alive. She touched James's cheek, quietly watching as he continued rocking his hips for his own release. It didn't take too long for him to reach his orgasm, burying his face against her neck to stifle his moans. She could feel him twitching inside her and merely held him, running soothing circles on his back.

All the tension from his body left him as James sank onto the bed beside her. He nuzzled against her neck and draped an arm over her waist, lazily pulling her closer until she was pressed against him. "I love you," he whispered, pressing a kiss against her temple. "I love you, Hermione."

She sleepily smiled and held him close. "I love you too."

* * *

**November 5, 1979**

Sunlight streamed through the dusty windowpanes of the cabin, bathing Hermione's sleeping face and prompting her to open her eyes. She blearily blinked a few times and furrowed her brows, slightly disoriented when she realised she wasn't back home in her bedroom.

She stilled as a warm breath brushed against the crown of her head. She glanced at the toned arm slung protectively over her bare abdomen, the fingers resting just along the curve of her breasts.

A light blush burned her cheeks when memories of last night came crashing back to her. She felt ridiculously sore but satiated as a small grin appeared on her face.

Hermione squirmed a bit, tickled by James's warm breath. The arm around her tightened at the same time before he unabashedly cupped her breast with his warm palm. She huffed a soft laugh and grasped his wrist to place it back against her abdomen once more.

"Blimey, I'm sure one day I'll die of suffocation because of your monstrous hair, Whiskers." His voice was still raspy from sleep. He brushed her hair away to expose her neck, just so he could plant a warm kiss against her cool skin. "Hi."

Her blush deepened as she looked at him over her shoulder. "Hi," she replied back, thickly swallowing at how devastatingly handsome James Potter looked in the morning. His hair stuck up in various directions while his hazel eyes looked as bright as the sunlight streaming through the small bedroom. Outside, it looked like there hadn't been a storm yesterday at all.

Hermione shifted on the bed to fully face James. His hand was instantly cradling her jaw, pressing a brief kiss on her lips, before pulling away and beaming down at her. "Slept well, love?" he asked.

She smiled and nodded her head.

"Quite tired too, I'm guessing." His smile turned into a sly smirk and despite the embarrassment, she rolled her eyes at how pompous he looked.

"Isn't it too early for your ego to make an appearance?"

James made a huge show of thinking, prompting Hermione to roll her eyes again. "Nope," he said with a loud pop. He grinned once more and neared his face towards Hermione. "Not when the most brilliant and beautiful girl I've ever met agreed to _marry_ me. And shagged me senselessly last night as an added bonus! I thought at first it would be the worst day I'd ever had but _no_ , I'm glad it still ended up like how I'd hoped."

Her smile faltered. "I'm sorry, James," she murmured.

He sighed and pulled her close until her head ended up pressed against his neck. "You honestly almost gave me a heart attack last night," he admonished. "And truth be told, I still cannot understand why you ran away when you made it clear that you're very much in love with me, Hermione. _Why_ you always run away, really." His hold on her tightened as another sigh escaped from his lips. "But… I'm partially to blame too. After you told me you loved me, I just assumed that we're finally on the same page in this relationship. I should have… I should have talked to you first before unloading you the big question. It's—"

" _Stop_."

James flinched. "What?" he nervously asked.

Hermione slowly tilted her head to meet his eyes. "Stop," she said, this time barely above a whisper. Her eyes shone with unshed tears and she almost bit back a smile at how panicky James became. "It's—" She paused and took a deep, shuddering breath. "I should have told you everything first. About… my past life. About _him_ – my best friend. It wasn't fair to you. I've constantly pushed you away because I wasn't able to completely let him go and it's not—" She glumly frowned. "You should be mad at me, James."

"I ammad at you," he pointed out. When Hermione quirked an eyebrow, his cheeks bloomed red. "Well, I _was_ , but you've been very distracting last night so forgive me if my feelings hadn't been what you've expected."

She snorted out a laugh as a tear rolled down from her eye. James reached out and tenderly brushed her tear away. "So this _him_ ," he lowly continued, "what was it about him that made you really scared of being with me?"

"Because," she started, "if I willingly chose to be with you in this timeline, he won't exist at all."

His hazel eyes grew wide in alarm. " _What_?" he sputtered out. "Why?"

She pierced him with her blue eyes. This was it – the truth she'd kept to herself because she still wished her own version of Harry Potter would be born in this timeline. But, after her conversation with Lily last night, and the terrible, _terrible_ thought she might have forever lost James, Hermione knew it was finally the right time to tell him. "He's your son," she simply said.

James blinked thrice. "Oh," he murmured. He blinked more, this time clear disbelief on his face. " _Oh_."

"Yeah," she said, cracking a small smile at the expression on his face.

He thickly swallowed, a deep frown now marring his handsome face. "And the mother?"

"It's—"

"No, wait," he groaned, raising a hand to massage his temple. "I'm not sure if I'm ready to know." He expelled a disgruntled breath and met Hermione's eyes. "No wonder you always freaked out because your best friend— My bloody fucking _son_ —"

She sadly smiled at his reaction. "You're not… you're not supposed to love me, James," she softly replied. "I'm from the bloody _future_. I know everything that's supposed to happen. I've been working tooth and nail to prevent Voldemort from wreaking havoc in the future. I've… I've prevented supposed deaths already, can you believe that? But what I wasn't expecting, among everything I've changed in this whole bloody timeline, is for me to fall in love with you. And for you to love me in return. It wasn't part of the plan. The plan was to make this world a better place for _him_ – for my _best friend_ – but I guess… I guess… My best friend was— He was—"

She paused when he touched her wet cheek, concern in his eyes. "It's okay. You're not ready to talk about him yet," he deliberately said.

Hermione tightly closed her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I will tell you about him. Soon. Everything. I promise. _I promise_."

"It's fine, love. But I just want to know one thing," he insisted. When Hermione opened her eyes and met his steely gaze, he continued, "I want to know that you're not going to regret this. _At all._ I've been mighty patient with you because I love you, Hermione. But… but if you feel like you're going to regret this in the end, maybe asking you to marry me seems like a big step. _Or_ , better yet, maybe we should take some time off away from each other for a while and properly think about how we truly feel. I mean, that's not—"

"Stop," she weakly cried once more. James's clammed up, his eyes wide with unadulterated nervousness. "When I ran away last night, I went to Lily and she made me realise a lot of things. One of which is that if I really want to be truly happy as Hermione Pettigrew, I should let go of my past." She placed a hand against James's cheek and gave him a small smile. "I promise I'm going to tell you about him soon. _Everything_ about him. And what I can promise too is that I won't be pushing you away anymore. Being with you makes me the happiest in this world, James Potter. I should stop… I should stop holding back."

"Yes, you should," he sighed. "You deserve to be happy, Hermione."

"And you," she said, smiling sweetly up at him. "Merlin knows why you found it with me."

The relief on his face almost looked ridiculous and Hermione couldn't help but to laugh. "Okay, all right," he muttered. "So, for the record, you still want to be with me?"

"Yes," she firmly said, unhesitatingly.

The corner of James's lips twitched. "And… you still want to marry me?" he tentatively asked.

"Yes," she replied, her resolve increasing ten-fold.

"You don't think we're being too hasty?" he asked. "I can try to ask you again after a few more weeks… _months_ , if you need more time. Maybe arrange a better date because last night was _shite_ with the bloody storm. And the little fact that you _ran_ away almost immediately after I asked the question. Maybe we should—"

"Stop," she sighed for the umpteenth time. She grinned widely at the sheepish wizard. "I _want_ to marry you, James. We're in the middle of a war with a future that is uncertain, now that I've managed to change its course. If… if things still turned out for the worst, then I'd rather spend the remaining blissful months by your side."

The smile he flashed was almost blinding like the sun outside. "All right and… _Merlin_ , I haven't even had the chance to slip the ring on your finger," he pointed out. James suddenly sat up, his eyes already scanning the room for his wand. His cheeks flushed when he looked down at Hermione. "Maybe you've seen my wand somewhere? My bloody glasses are broken and I can't see a damn thing."

Hermione snorted and sat up too, bringing the comforter against her chest for some semblance of decency. She saw James's wand on the floor not too far away. She bent down to pick it up and gave it to him.

" _Accio robes_ ," James said. His grey robes, still a little damp from the storm last night, came hurtling towards him. He caught it deftly in his hands and rummaged inside the pockets. He pulled out the ring box and opened the lid, gingerly grasping the ring from its cushion.

With glittering eyes, he met Hermione's gaze. "Will you marry me, Hermione?" he teasingly asked. But Hermione noted the nervous glint in his eyes, as if afraid she'd bolt out of the room and leave him standing like a fool once again.

"Yes," she vehemently replied, lest she'd come up with another stupid excuse to hurt him. "Yes, I will."

James was grinning broadly when he slipped the sapphire ring on her finger. It fitted her perfectly and as she lifted her hand in the air to admire the ring, the dark blue gemstone twinkled prettily. "It's very beautiful," she said, bringing her hand against her heart.

"I'm glad Mum didn't force me to use the Potter ring," he said, grimacing. "It's bloody atrocious. You should have seen it. I don't know how someone could wear it when the rock on it was as big as a knuckle."

"Well then, I'm glad you've given this to me instead," she said with a laugh.

"It matches your eyes," he said, grasping her other wrist where her sapphire bracelet sat. James brought her hand against his lips and pressed a gentle kiss.

Hermione's smile turned fond, wounding her arm around his neck to give him a kiss. The blanket fluttered down to her lap as she wrapped her other arm around his neck, pressing him closer to herself. James softly groaned and laid her down on the bed, bracing his arms against the side of her head to keep himself from crushing her.

"I hope you're not hungry yet, Whiskers," he huskily replied in between kisses pressed along her jaw. "I don't plan on letting you leave yet."

Hermione released a sound that was a mixture of a laugh and a gasp, wordlessly wrapping her legs around his hips in reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol, I'm more of a fluff-kind of author and writing smut is bloody hard for me so yeah hahaha.
> 
> I'm not sure if you've noticed it, but I made Lily's character as such so that she'd be Harry's counterpart in Hermione Pettigrew's life. The first time they met on the train, Hermione instantly thought that Lily had Harry's warmth and smile after all. So, I just thought it's fitting that the blessing Hermione desperately needed from Harry would be given by Lily, because obviously Harry had no means to give it to her. Lol yeah okay I'm rambling again.
> 
> Lastly, to be really honest with all of you, this fanfic is now stressing me out more than making me happy. You know the feeling when you're dreading a huge report you've worked really hard on but still afraid of botching it up? Yeah, just like that. I started writing this fic because I was frustrated with how little the amount of decent, multi-chapter Jamione fanfics. I wrote this fic because I wanted to be happy. I really love how everything turned out, so it didn't surprise me when I got so emotionally invested with this fic. Which is a very, very, very bad thing for me, because now I'm second-guessing the decisions I've made for this fic. Y'all legit scare me with your reviews now hahaha. I flinch a little when I see a new notif. I appreciate that you're still reading this, and maybe I'm going to be bold here in assuming you're emotionally invested in this fic too ahaha. But yes, this fic is now adding stress when it's supposed to be my mental break. I'm just glad that this fic only has a few chapters left until the end so that I can finally have some peace of mind and heart. You're all lovely with your reviews (glowing and constructive and maybe a bit… harsh?) but holy schanps, you can be really terrifying hahahaha. Good thing I'm trained to withstand these kinds of mental stress lmao. But yeah, I'm just excited for this fic to end.
> 
> Oh wow, this A/N is so long. Better stop now ahaha. See you tomorrow.
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes).


	48. chapter forty-seven

* * *

**xxxxvii.**

_**we did not give up on love today** _

(Orpheus by Sara Bareilles)

* * *

**December 25, 1979**

Hermione heavily sat down at the top of the toilet lid, a disbelieving laugh flitting out of her lips. Her hold on the pregnancy test was limp, and try as she might, she couldn't blink away the double line projected on the stick. Even when her vision swam with tears, the lines were still clear as day, and Hermione didn't know what to do.

Merlin and Morgana, she was completely and utterly fucked.

A teardrop landed on the pregnancy test and she took a soft sniff, haphazardly wiping her tears away with her free hand.

She couldn't believe this turn of events. Here was she, painfully accepting that Harry Potter might not exist in this world, with her only consolation being that he would never go through the same horrible experiences he had to endure her previous lifetime.

And then, fate decided to pull off the grandest trick in the whole universe and terrifyingly, irrevocably, found a way for Harry to still be born in this new future she had singlehandedly created. Even though the babe inside her uterus was but a bloody speck with constantly dividing cells, Hermione already had this inkling that this would be Harry. Granted, a different Harry Potter _but still_ Harry Potter.

She emitted another strange sound, a cross between a laugh and a sob, and immediately banished the proof away with just a wave of her wand. A part of her was ecstatic that in the end, Harry Potter would still find a way to be born into this world. But another part, the _biggest_ part, was terrified that she'd still bring him into chaos, with Voldemort prowling the streets, reigning terror over the Wizarding World.

Hermione mentally berated herself for forgetting to cast a simple contraceptive charm when she'd lain with James. She'd been too distracted by his eyes and his touch, riding the throes of pleasure that made everything around them simply not matter.

Now, _now_ the product of their carelessness was only a few months away and Hermione had already conjured worst case scenarios that did not help her frazzled nerves. The prophecy, the scar, the _deaths_ … all of them hung heavily on Hermione's shoulders and the initial surprise, and admitted reluctant elation, upon discovering she was pregnant disappeared. All that was left was genuine dread of what tomorrow may bring.

"Hermione?" Peter's voice called out from the other side. "What's taking you so long? Dinner's ready!"

She slowly stood up from the toilet seat and removed any signs of crying from her face with a spell. Hermione grimaced upon seeing her reflection in the bathroom mirror, and forced a small smile she hoped would be passable.

"Sorry," she said, yanking the door open. Peter furrowed his eyebrows and frowned at her, but Hermione had already ducked her head and strode towards the kitchen.

The overwhelming smell of their Christmas dinner made her nauseous. She knew that something was wrong with her the moment she gagged at just the smell of fried chicken and had merely brushed it away as feeling under the weather. When bloody _toffees_ made her vomit with their sickening sweet smell, Hermione firmly believed this was something else entirely. When her menstruation was a week late, Hermione had pieced everything together. She knew she could just cast a simple spell to confirm her suspicion, but she was too nervous she might botch it up and end up hurting herself _or_ the baby – if ever there even was one. Which was why she'd ventured to the nearest shop and bought a fail-safe, Muggle pregnancy test kit instead.

Truthfully, she hadn't been surprised when the pregnancy test confirmed her fears.

Hermione thickly swallowed and shakily smiled at Anya, pointedly ignoring the multi-coloured food her mother had worked hard to prepare the whole day.

"Is everything all right, sweetheart?" her mother asked, noting how pale she'd become.

"I'm all right, Mum," she murmured. "I'm just a bit nauseous."

"Nauseous?" Peter worriedly echoed, occupying the seat across from Hermione.

Hermione flashed a small smile to soothe their worries. "I think I stayed up too late reading," she smoothly lied. "I didn't get enough sleep last night."

Her brother snorted and rolled his eyes. "We've already both graduated but you're still an unbelievable swot," he pointed out. Hermione lightly glared at him in return, but Peter just rolled his eyes again.

"Studying may still be helpful for your future career, you know," she snarled back.

"Speaking of which, how was your application with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures?" Anya amicably asked.

"I was scheduled for an interview after the Christmas holidays but…" Hermione expelled a soft sigh and wryly smiled at her mother. "Something came up. I think I might not apply after all."

"What? Why?" Peter asked, surprised. "Isn't that what you've always wanted?"

With a baby coming, who could still be potentially marked by an evil wizard, Hermione was bloody well sure she'd be kept busy until Voldemort was defeated. But of course, her brother and mother couldn't possibly know that. "I'm… keeping my options open. I mean, I can just open up my own bookstore in Hogsmeade or something so…"

Anya reached forward and held Hermione's hand. "Whatever you want to do with your future, you know that we're going to fully support you, love, right?" Anya squeezed her hand as an added comfort, and Hermione tried her very best not to burst into tears. Perhaps, the pregnancy hormones were already acting up.

Her mother then noticed how empty her dinner plate was. "Why aren't you eating?" she gasped, hastily piling various meat and mashed potatoes onto Hermione's plate. The strong smell of onion wafted into her nose and Hermione had to bite down her bottom lip to stop herself from gagging.

"I-I'm not really hungry," she said, discreetly pushing away the plateful of nauseating smells. Anya looked scandalised by her refusal to eat, so Hermione hastily grabbed a few chocolate chip cookies just to appease her mother. At least chocolate didn't make her nauseous. Yet.

Anya still looked worried and Hermione persistently assured her she'd eat later if she got hungry. Her mother sighed and relented, already quizzing Peter about his work and Mary.

With her mind preoccupied with her pregnancy, Hermione wasn't able to notice the suspicious look in Peter's eyes. She only realised that he was on to something when he volunteered to help Hermione wash the dishes after dinner.

"You've never voluntarily washed the dishes!" she exclaimed, wide-eyed. Peter snorted and merely grabbed the clean, dripping plate from her hands and wiped it dry.

"What's really wrong, Hermione?" he insisted. "Mum may have dropped the subject because something's obviously bothering you, but I _can't_." He deeply frowned and pointedly looked at her pasty skin. "You don't look good either! Come to think of it, you've been under the weather for _days_. It's a little disconcerting."

Despite her nervousness, she managed to crack a smile. Auror training had really developed Peter's observational skills. Hermione actually braced herself for Anya's questioning, having seen the worried glint in her mother's eyes throughout their meal, but Anya bid them goodnight and retired to her room. She didn't expect that Peter would catch on and interrogate her like the proper Auror he was.

"I'm not some dark wizard for you to bloody interrogate, Peter Pettigrew," she lightly admonished, but the teasing glint in her eyes wasn't left unnoticed by Peter.

" _Something's_ wrong," he persisted, unamused by her teasing. "What is it? Is it something about the ministry? Is it why you've decided to ditch your interview for the Creature Department?"

Hermione paused and mulled over her options. Should she tell him or should she keep this to herself first? She wondered if James should be the first one to know, but one look at Peter made her believe her brother would be extra incorrigible tonight and wouldn't rest until she cracked.

A wry smile appeared on her face, knowing full well he'd discover it anyway. " _Fine_ ," she said with an exasperated sigh. She jutted her chin at the breakable plate in between his hands. "But you may want to put that aside first."

Peter snorted. "I'm not going to break this, whatever you tell me, Hermione," he said, followed by a chuckle that was far too nervous to be normal.

The corners of her lips twitched into a small, fond smile. " _Fine_ , you stubborn berk," she said. "I'm pregnant."

" _See_ ," Peter calmly said, waving the plate in the air to prove a point. "Just because you told me you're pregnant doesn't mean I'm going to—" Words died from his lips when his blue eyes widened in shock, finally digesting Hermione's revelation. His grip slackened and the poor plate crashed down in the sink, shattering into various pieces.

"I told you so," she said with a soft snort.

Peter didn't seem to hear her and started to emit strangled noises, none of them even making any sense. Hermione was worried she had broken her brother but Peter glanced at Hermione and finally squeaked a question, "Whose?"

"What kind of a question is that?!" she laughingly cried.

"I-I mean… _how_ —"

"Do you honestly want me to answer that stupid, _stupid_ question, Petey?"

His eyes had filled with tears as he took a deep shuddering breath. "Holy shite, Hermione," he sobbed, grasping on both of her shoulders to turn her fully. Her eyes had filled with tears too, a shaky smile slipping on her pale face. "No wonder you've been— I mean, you looked _disgusted_ by Mum's food and… and you were always so _tired_. I'm— _holy shite_ , does James know?"

She shook her head, a few tears escaping from her eyes in the process. "I just found out today," she confessed. "But… but I felt something different weeks before. If I were to hazard a guess, I'd say I'm already a month and a few weeks pregnant." She expelled a watery chuckle and brushed away her tears. "James will be over the moon." When his grip on her shoulders tightened, Hermione released a sob, the gravity of the situation once again lying heavily on her shoulders. "But… but how can we be so _stupid_? In the middle of a bloody war! We haven't destroyed all of the horcruxes yet and… and Voldemort is bloody _fucking_ alive." Her hands gravitated down to her still small abdomen, terror clearly written on her face. "This is disastrous. Truly, undoubtedly, _terrifyingly_ disastrous, but James, that bloody berk, will be so happy. I can already imagine his face."

Her tears had increased, fear now trampling the other happy emotions she was feeling. Peter's shock morphed into genuine worry. "You… you're not happy about this?" he pointed out.

"Of course I'm happy about this!" she vehemently exclaimed. "Pregnant! With a baby! With _James_." A silly grin briefly slipped on her face, but it faltered almost immediately. "But… but like I said, this pregnancy will be disastrous. You won't—" She shakily turned her head away from his worried, blue eyes. "You won't understand."

" _Why_?" Peter insisted. "Is it because we're at war?" When she still refused to look at him, Peter crashed her against his chest and tightly held her. "Hermione, you're surrounded by a bunch of reckless, stupid Gryffindors. I'm sure everybody will fight tooth and nail just to keep you and that growing baby safe." He paused as a hysterical laugh escaped from his lips. "A baby! I-I'm going to be an uncle!"

Hermione's heart clenched at his transparent happiness, remembering how his cowardly counterpart had singlehandedly caused Harry Potter's life of misery. Granted, she trusted her brother with all of her heart. Peter had already proven to be someone who was kind, who would give love freely, and fiercely protect the people he cared for, even if it meant he would die. But the thing was, Hermione had no idea if the prophecy would even be spoken by Sybil Trelawney in this timeline. And if she ever did, would Harry still be chosen by Voldemort as his equal? And would she… would _James_ …

Raw fear seized her whole. Worst case scenarios conjured inside her head again and she didn't realise she was shaking until Peter's hold tightened around her. "Hermione?" he worriedly asked.

Hermione glanced at her brother's face and before she could stop herself, she softly asked, "Have I ever told you about my best friend? The one who reluctantly burdened the war on his shoulders all because of his stupid destiny?"

Peter's eyes widened. "You've… you've never talked about him," he whispered. "We thought… well… it was painful for you, so we never pried. All we knew was that you love him very much. Like a brother."

"Like a brother," she hollowly echoed, tears steadily streaming down her face.

Truthfully, Hermione was surprised such words came tumbling out of her mouth. But perhaps, after her confession to James about Harry, she thought it wouldn't hurt for the others to start knowing about her best friend too. Now that her mind was filled with memories of Harry Potter, Hermione couldn't seem to stop herself from telling him to Peter. "His name was Harry Potter," she said, her voice cracking as a small, sad smile appeared on her face.

"Potter?" Peter gasped, his brows furrowing in surprise.

"Yes," she added. Her eyes steadily met Peter's glistening eyes. "He was the son of James Potter and Lily Evans Potter, born on July 31st, and grew up neglected by his aunt and uncle."

"Lily—"

She tightly closed her eyes as more words spilled out from her mouth. "He was Sorted into Gryffindor and he was the youngest Seeker Hogwarts had ever seen. He was… he was… The-Boy-Who-Lived, rightfully coined as such because on the night of October 31st, Voldemort paid a surprise visit to his family's house with every intention of murdering him. But Harry's parents loved him very, _very_ much, and Voldemort murdered them because they were in the way." She took a deep, shuddering breath, sobs racking her body and she tightly clutched onto Peter. "Vol-Voldemort tried to kill Harry but he _survived._ Harry was the only known wizard to survive a Killing Curse."

Peter's hold on her slackened. "Murdered?" he breathlessly whispered.

Hermione slowly opened her eyes and saw the thick tears in his eyes. "James… he was…" Peter couldn't seem to force out words and Hermione glumly nodded her head.

The horror on his face made her more firmly believe that Peter wouldn't _dare_ betray his best friend. "There was a prophecy, you see," she softly continued. "As far as I know, there hasn't been a prophecy uttered yet. So… so things aren't certain. But…" She placed her hand on her stomach again. "I-I'm scared, that it might happen, that _my child_ will live another miserable life in this bloody world all because of a selfish, evil bastard. And I can't let that happen. I can't, Peter."

Peter took a sharp intake of breath and harshly gripped her shoulders. "You can't die!" he vehemently declared. "You _can't_ , Hermione." He crushed her against his chest once more and sobbed in her hair. "I'm going to protect you. We're going to kill that bastard before he touches you, or James or… or your baby. I'm going to make sure of it!"

His impassioned promises had flabbergasted Hermione. Wide-eyed, she pulled away from Peter to stare at him, noting how his eyes were already red-rimmed from his crying and there was snot dripping down from his nostrils. He looked ridiculous yet resolute, and Hermione's face crumpled with overwhelming emotions, trusting her brother with her whole heart.

"What in Merlin's name are you both crying about?"

The Pettigrew siblings swivelled their heads towards the kitchen door in surprise. Anya's brows were furrowed and there was worry in her eyes. Hermione and Peter briefly exchanged glances and before Hermione could come up with a half-arsed excuse, Peter blurted out, "Hermione's pregnant!"

"Peter!" she cried in indignation. Peter looked properly shame-faced and muttered an apology under his breath.

Hermione realised Anya hadn't responded to his blurted revelation and nervously, she directed her eyes towards her mother. Unadulterated shock painted her pale face, and Hermione braced herself for their mother's infamous Selwyn temper to appear.

But then, Anya surprised her when she broke down into tears and flew into her arms. "Oh! Oh, my daughter!" she cried.

"You're not… you're not mad?" the brunette tentatively asked.

"Mad?" Anya exclaimed. "Goodness, sweetheart, I've been pestering both you and Peter to get married for years just so you can pop out grandchildren for your poor mother." Her eyes glittered, shooting a glance at Hermione's engagement ring. "You've made me infinitely happy when you told us you've agreed to marry James. And now! Pregnant! Oh, my sweet, sweet daughter."

Hermione's eyes filled with more tears, burying her face against Anya's neck. She wanted to tell her she was scared, for her baby's future, for _James's_ future, but she didn't have the heart to worry Anya now that her happiness was palpable.

She felt Peter's strong arms wrapping around her and her mother, joining in their embrace, and a fraction of Hermione's fear dissipated away. She lifted her eyes and met Peter's resolute gaze. She lifted her hand and placed it on Peter's arm, squeezing it in gratitude, and mentally vowing to herself that she would do whatever she could so the old Harry Potter's life she knew would never be realised. She would bloody well make sure of it.

* * *

**December 26, 1979**

"Honestly, Peter, I'm _pregnant_. Not incapacitated." She rolled her eyes when Peter petulantly frowned. "I can still Apparate myself to Hogwarts, thank you very much."

"There won't be side effects for the baby?" he asked.

Her annoyance blew away with her sigh. "No," she reassured, slowly shaking her head. "I'm still in my first trimester. It would be very dangerous if my due date was near. But for now, it's _safe_."

"Are you sure? What if you splinched yourself and—"

She rolled her eyes once more and Apparated on the spot, unwilling to stay and listen to his worried yammering. Peter rematerialised almost immediately, a glare in his eyes. "Hermione," he growled.

She simply gestured at herself. " _See_. I'm all right," she pointed out matter-of-factly.

His frown deepened. "You really need to go to St. Mungo's to get yourself fully checked," he insisted. "I can owl Mary so that she can assist you. I'm sure she'll be more than happy to help you, Hermione."

A fond smile appeared on her face, remembering the enthusiastic witch. "I'm sure she will be," she said. "But later. We have a horcrux to destroy today, remember?"

Peter sighed and wordlessly grasped onto her elbow, already leading her towards Hogwarts.

As they trekked through the pathway that would lead back to their school, nervous anticipation for the destruction of a horcrux trumped her fear for her baby's future. They were going to destroy another horcrux, which was one step closer to defeating Voldemort. She would think about her pregnancy later.

When they neared the entrance of the school, Hermione was surprised the Marauders were accompanied by other people. "What are you doing here?" she blurted out, furrowing her brows when the Snapes gave her a small smile while Regulus tipped his head in greeting.

"I missed the last one," the Black heir said. "I'd rather not miss this one."

" _Or_ , you miss me," Sirius pointed out, depositing a heavy arm over his younger brother's shoulder. "There's no need to be shy about the truth, Reggie."

Regulus scowled and tried to shrug his arm away, but this only made Sirius cheekier, wrapping his other arm around his waist. The younger of the two shot Hermione a silent plea for help, but she was enjoying how Sirius was making him flustered too much. Instead, her eyes swept towards her best friends and she asked, "What are you doing here?" again.

"Potter invited us," Lily said with a half-hearted shrug.

" _James_ invited you?" Her eyes widened as she looked at her embarrassed fiancée.

"The more the merrier, Whiskers," he merely said, already striding forward to pull her away from Peter. But her older brother wasn't budging, however, his hold on her elbow tightening in retaliation. James shot him a confused look while Hermione gave her brother a warning glance. She knew Peter was annoyed that he'd knocked her up before they'd gotten married, but he was being bloody incorrigible right now.

They engaged in a glaring contest until Peter relented, his jaw tensing while he let Hermione's arm slip through his grip.

"Did something happen between you both?" the bespectacled wizard asked, a bemused smile on his face. "The Selwyn temper is off the roof!"

" _Nothing_ ," she ground out and pulled James away, lest Peter blurted out that she was pregnant for everybody to hear.

They all strolled inside Hogwarts, loudly reminiscing about their Hogwarts years. Hermione amusedly noted even Regulus was engaging with their conversation, even though his answers were cold and clipped. But this had delighted Sirius very much, and Hermione could see that the younger Black was trying his very best. A small smile bloomed on Hermione's face, happy that Regulus was making an effort.

She was content in listening to their conversation, not in the mood to talk at all. She inevitably thought about her pregnancy again, and after darting a quick glance at the oblivious wizard holding her hand, Hermione wondered if today would be the right time to break the news. The people she cared about the most in this world were all conveniently gathered today after all. Perhaps, after they'd destroyed the next horcrux, she could reveal her pregnancy.

James suddenly ducked his head and peered at Hermione with worry. "Is something wrong, love?" he whispered for only her to hear. "You've been awfully quiet."

"Not really in a chatty mood," she said, one corner of her lips twitching into a small smirk, remembering a similar memory.

He quirked an eyebrow and neared his face, his lips now a hairsbreadth away from her ear. "Say," he started, "maybe you'd fancy to drop by Potter Manor later? The cabin's still very much unoccupied, if you must know."

She thickly swallowed, his fingers lightly digging into her hip. The bloody git was smirking suggestively and with a light glare, Hermione replied, "Aren't your parents back home from Italy?"

"I can sneak you in with Pokey's help," he seriously answered. "Our house-elf is fond of you, so I'm sure that won't be a problem."

The suggestion was tempting; the warmth pooling between her thighs was already enough answer of how much she'd missed him. But they had a far bigger problem right now, and Hermione knew she'd be ridiculously distracted by it all throughout the night, even if James tried his hardest to demand her sole attention to focus on him.

"Not today, love," she whispered, smiling apologetically at his disappointed frown. Her smile grew bigger when she heard Peter noisily clearing his throat, a stern glare on his face.

James pulled away from Hermione, just enough to be acceptable for Peter, and threw an innocent smile at him. Her brother heavily sighed and turned his attention back to Sirius, who was excitedly recounting his last mission for the Order.

"Is something wrong with Wormy?" James lowly asked. "What has gotten his knickers in a twist?"

Hermione merely snorted in answer.

They finally arrived in front of the gargoyle statue guarding Dumbledore's Office. Remus murmured the password that sprang the statue alive, revealing the revolving staircase that would lead them to the office.

When Dumbledore permitted them entry, the Headmaster's eyes twinkled in amusement when they all clambered inside. "I wasn't expecting such a huge group," he said as they arranged themselves in such a way that they wouldn't be cramped.

"Sorry, Headmaster," Remus blurted out.

The old wizard merely waved his hand then kindly gestured at the displayed horcrux on the table. Helga Hufflepuff's Cup sat on top of the table and Hermione slightly shivered, remembering her misadventures with Regulus that had led them to stealing the Cup.

"I still can't believe you broke into Gringotts just to get that," James softly murmured, his hazel eyes dancing with mischief.

"It wasn't easy, but it was definitely better the second time," she whispered in reply.

His eyes widened, looking at Hermione like she'd grown another head. "You've done it twice?" he breathlessly asked.

"Err… once as Hermione _Granger_ ," she explained. Cheekily, she added, "On a bloody _dragon_ , mind you."

James looked ridiculous, like a fish out of water, before he huffed out a laugh and draped an arm around her waist. "I _knew_ you were the truest Marauder of us all," he gleefully pointed out.

"Still not a compliment," she said with a smile.

"Any volunteers?" Dumbledore then asked, returning their attention at the horcrux. Regulus surprisingly strode forward, a determined look on his face.

Dumbledore kindly smiled at the Death Eater. "By all means, Regulus," he said.

Sirius passed him the pouch containing the basilisk fangs. With one, mighty thrust, the Cup cracked in the middle. Hermione found it easier to watch this time as a billow of black smoke hissed out of the broken horcrux. Regulus had gone sickly pale and Sirius had to drag him away. Even Lily and Sev were deeply disturbed by the smoke that formed the Dark Mark. Hermione reached out to hold Lily's hand, which the redhead smiled at gratefully.

"Well then, Merry Christmas to you," the Headmaster jovially announced, as if moments ago there wasn't a dark artifact sitting on his desk.

They were all dismissed and Hermione shot towards the door, effectively blocking them from exiting.

"Move out of the way, Pettigrew," Sev drawled, an amused smirk on his face.

"Actually," she deliberately started, "I have something to tell you guys before we leave."

Peter's neck snapped towards her direction and he met her eyes. She noticed the question in them and Hermione gave the tiniest nods. Peter quirked an eyebrow then latched his gaze onto James, a small smirk on his face.

"Should I leave for you to discuss an important matter?" Dumbledore called.

Hermione's cheeks reddened, momentarily forgetting the fact that they were in _Dumbledore's_ office and the said wizard was standing just behind his desk. "Err… you may stay, Professor," she hastily said. "I-I'm sorry. This won't take long."

There was mild curiosity in his blue eyes, his half-moon spectacles twinkling merrily as he calmly sat on his chair and laced his fingers together.

Her eyes then swept towards James, who looked slightly concerned at the nervousness on her face. Hermione took a deep breath and flashed a shaky smile. "I found out yesterday that I'm pregnant," she announced.

No one had moved after her hasty revelation. Hermione held her breath, waiting for an outburst. Peter was the only one who looked like he was breathing, the smirk on his face changing into a full-blown smile at how flummoxed she had made everybody.

Lily was the first to crack, shrieking bloody murder when she launched herself into Hermione's arms and sobbed against her hair. Sev actually managed to brightly beam, gathering both witches into a hug. Tears prickled in Hermione's eyes, softly laughing as she patted Lily's back in comfort.

"Holy shite," Sirius gasped. " _Holy shite_. Remus! Hold me! I think I'm going to faint."

The werewolf rolled his eyes and pushed the melodramatic wizard away. Sirius had broken into a litany of expletives as he tried to prop himself upright by heavily leaning against his younger brother. Remus and Regulus were actually the only ones who looked marginally calm, albeit wide-eyed with surprise.

Her eyes lastly landed on the father. James had grown very, _very_ still. All the colour on his face had drained, his mouth was ajar, and his hazel eyes were wide and almost bright green. Distractedly, she noticed how Dumbledore had waved his wand just in time to nonverbally push one of his armchairs right behind James, who then fell down on his bum. Sirius was now loudly cursing against James's ear, his grey eyes crazed and suspiciously shiny.

Hermione started chuckling at the craziness she had caused. This had shot James back onto his feet, already stomping towards Hermione in huge strides. Severus calmly pulled Lily away from the brunette and set her aside, allowing James to launch himself towards Hermione in a bone-crushing hug.

Tears now poured from Hermione's eyes as she clung to James. "Err… surprise," she weakly whispered against his ear.

James gently moved Hermione away from him and stared at her in disbelief. "How— I-I mean we haven't even done it many times!" he cried, loud enough for everybody to hear in this room. "Well, I know we did it _several_ times that day. And there was that _one_ time in your bedroom. I'm not sure if the one in the Drawing Room counts, though, but—"

"Shut up, James!" Hermione hissed as she covered his running mouth with her hand. Her cheeks turned splotchy red and refused to look at the others in the room.

His words died down as his face crumpled, eyes shining with happy tears behind Hermione's hand. She felt his lips stretching into a wide smile and Hermione huffed another laugh. "You idiot," she said. "I knew you'd be over the moon."

James yanked her wrist away from his mouth just so he could give her a kiss. She smiled against his lips, placing her hand against his wet cheeks to pull him close.

"Oi, not in front of me," Peter complained.

"I'm going to be a godfather!" Sirius cried, swinging an arm over the couple.

" _You_? I'm going to be the godmother!" Lily sobbed, shoving Sirius away just so she could embrace them.

The two had broken into loud bickering, with Remus and Sev trying to appease the boisterous pair. Regulus, highly amused with their antics, smoothly suggested that perhaps _he'd_ be assigned as the godfather, so that there wouldn't be any fights at all, but Sirius and Lily teamed up and loudly pointed out they'd have to hex him good if it meant there would be less competition.

Hermione was beaming brightly, as the whole group caused a ruckus inside Dumbledore's Office. Entangled in various arms from the people she'd come to truly love in this world, Hermione placed a hand against her still small stomach, silently vowing that this baby would grow up surrounded with so much love and warmth, such that her own version of Harry Potter had never received.

**-ooo-**

Later that night found Hermione sitting on the steps outside their house, eyes trained on the Apparation spot nearby. After profusely apologising to Dumbledore for causing an uproar in his office, Hermione excused herself, reasoning out she was dead tired and wanted to rest. This had obviously worried them all, but Hermione assured them she was just feeling under the weather with all the pregnancy hormones and shite.

James had refused to go home, however. Hermione met Peter's eyes, who then understood her silent plea and apparated back home without her.

"I'm going to tell my parents today," he resolutely declared.

"Don't you think we have had too much excitement today?" she asked, smiling at how stubborn he looked. But James persisted, insisting it would be best if they discovered it sooner rather than later. She suggested going with him to Potter Manor, but James refused, thinking it would be best to talk to his parents alone in case they didn't take the news very well. In the end, they agreed he'd break the news to his parents alone and then he'd come over to the Pettigrew household to tell her how it went.

Hence, here was Hermione, sitting outside their front porch on a cold, wintery night. Anya and Peter had long retired to their bedrooms, and Hermione wondered if things hadn't gone well with James's revelation.

She was about to stand up and just wait inside when her eyes caught sight of James apparating nearby. His eyes widened when he saw she was outside waiting for him, a deep frown on his face as he broke into a jog.

"What are you doing outside?" he admonished, already shrugging off his thick cloak to drop over Hermione's shoulders. "Merlin, Whiskers, it's _freezing_!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and sat back down on the steps. "I have _magic_ ," she reminded him. "I can make myself warm." To prove a point, she pulled out her wand and murmured a Warming Spell at James's form.

James frowned disapprovingly and settled on the stone steps beside her. Hermione chuckled at his ridiculous worry, already inserting her hands inside his pockets to keep them warm. Her smile grew as she grabbed a fistful of toffees and pulled them out from the pocket.

"I don't think eating one is a good idea," he pointed out, his hazel eyes darkening with a meaningful glint.

Hermione snorted and deposited them back inside the pockets. "The smell of toffees actually makes me a bit nauseous," she confessed with a scowl. "Bloody pregnancy really messed up my senses."

His eyes softened in worry, and Hermione smiled to appease him. "How'd the revelation go?" she asked. "Did your parents take it well?"

"It went surprisingly well," he answered. "I was expecting to get reprimanded, to be honest. Mum's warned me before we should get married first before producing a Potter heir, so if she was incensed at discovering I'd knocked you up, that would be understandable." He widely grinned and gripped her hand. "But they love you very much, Hermione. I think they've been quite fond of you ever since they discovered you'd hexed me with the Bat-Bogey. Mum reprimanded me but it was _ridiculous_ because she couldn't stop smiling. Dad's very supportive, of course."

"That's good to hear," she said, blowing out a sigh of relief. "I was worried they'd be mad."

"Like I said, they love you very much," James replied. He then expelled a laugh, his hold on her hand tightening. "I'm going to be a _father_. How bloody insane is that?"

He was brimming with so much happiness that Hermione couldn't help but smile. James didn't need to know about her pregnancy fears right now. She'd find the right time to tell him about everything she'd told Peter yesterday. For now, she just wanted him to be happy.

"Would you rather the baby's a boy or a girl?" she softly asked instead.

"It doesn't matter as long as the babe's _yours_ ," he cheekily replied. When Hermione snorted at his ridiculous answer, he grinned. "But, if I can really have a choice, I'm hoping our baby will be a girl."

"A girl?" she echoed, surprised. She was half-expecting him to answer a boy, just so he could turn him into a proper Marauder and teach him pranks that could get him into trouble.

"I've always been a little jealous of Peter," he confessed. "Since he had a younger sister to dote on." His grin broadened at her widened eyes. "I'm constantly surrounded by brothers, Hermione. So, I thought having a daughter will be nice." His eyes strayed towards the inky sky, his smile turning fond. "If our baby is a girl, I'd like to name her Stella."

She matched his smile. "Star," she said.

"Yes," he said, his cheeks turning red. "She's going to be the brightest star. I'm sure of it."

"I love it," she concurred. She squeezed his hand tight, prompting him to glance back into her eyes. "And if the baby's a boy?"

James ruffled his hair and chuckled. "I've been dead set on having a girl first that I've never really thought about a boy's name," he revealed. " _But_ , Mum once told me I was almost named a different name, but Dad had insisted he'd like me to be a 'James' instead. So, I promised Mum I'd name the Potter heir as such, just to appease her."

A lump formed in her throat, her heart thudding in anticipation. "And the name is?"

"Harry," James said, his eyes turning heavenward once more so he was unable to see how Hermione's eyes had filled with tears. "Harry James Potter. It's got a nice ring to it, yeah?"

A tear slipped down Hermione's eye as a small, almost sad smile appeared on her face. "Yeah," she echoed.

The smile on James's face faltered as he glanced quickly at her face. "What's wrong?" he asked, eyes growing wide upon noting the tears in her eyes. "Why are you—" His words were left dangling as his jaw drop, clear disbelief and understanding now written all over his face. " _Bloody hell_ , was your best friend named—"

"—Harry?" Hermione gave him a watery smile. "Yeah. The one and the same."

If it was more possible, James's eyes almost popped out of their sockets. "You don't think the baby growing inside you is—"

"—him?" A few more tears slipped down her eyes. "I'm not entirely sure but I think that's a possibility. A _huge_ one, in fact."

"Bloody hell," James echoed breathlessly. "Well, that's just… just weird."

She lightly laughed at the odd expression on his face. "Tell me about it," she said, pressing her hand against her face to brush away her tears.

His surprise melted into deep concern as he ducked his head closer to her face. "Are you all right, Whiskers?" he worriedly asked. "It's— I know it was _careless_ for us to even forget a simple Contraceptive Charm. I mean, _blimey_ , a baby! In the middle of a dangerous war!" He peered at her above the rim of his spectacles, a deep frown on his face. "But, are _you_ all right? You said you've just started to let go of your past. It's just… everything's suddenly going too fast."

"Too fast?" she repeated as a small, forlorn smile bloomed on her face. "No, James. I'm… I'm afraid everything's moving at its proper pace. I'm the only one who's been stalling."

She then slowly pressed a palm against her still small abdomen, worry now apparent on her face. "And now with this pregnancy I…" She paused and thickly swallowed. "I'm scared of what this may mean."

"What do you mean?" James worriedly asked.

Hermione blew a soft sigh. _'So much for wanting to keep him happy today,'_ she thought. But James, of all people, deserved to know. "There was a very important prophecy back in Hermione Granger's time. About the birth of a person that can vanquish the Dark Lord. Simply put, a prophecy that may bring Voldemort's downfall. And it was about Harry."

The bespectacled wizard froze. " _What_?" he breathed out. All the colour drained from his face as he reached forward and pressed his palm against her abdomen. "And you think our baby—"

"Nothing's certain," she hastily appeased, hating how terrified James looked right now. "As far as I know, there isn't even a prophecy. _Maybe_ there won't even be any."

She shakily placed her hand on top of his and resolutely held his gaze. "A lot of things had already changed because of my presence in this timeline," she said.

James gave her an almost sad smile. "Nothing's certain, love," he echoed. "What will we do if there is still a prophecy?"

"Then we fight," she vehemently replied, even when tears streamed down her eyes. "We _fight_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't tell me you never saw this one coming hahaha. I mean, a lot of you had been theorizing this even before James and Hermione got together lmao. Besides, I've dropped various hints in the previous chapter. The date, blatant omission of any mentions of contraception… yeah. I'm not sure if you've noticed it yet, but I really love leaving small, important details throughout the story disguised as insignificant dialogues. If you're wondering how this story will end, well, let me tell you that I've already dropped various hints hahaha.
> 
> So yes, now wow, I was wide-eyed with your lovely reviews. Things had been really stressful for me for the past few weeks hahaha. Since we're still under quarantine because of this pandemic, I have no other means for my mental outlet. But thank you! You've all been really kind. Really, I love your impassioned reviews! I know I'm actually doing something right if I'm making you very emotional just from small scenes hahaha. It just had been a really tiring month for me hehe.
> 
> See you tomorrow!
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes)!


	49. chapter forty-eight

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**xxxxviii.**

_**some truths we wish we could hide** _

(South by Sleeping at Last)

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**January 31, 1980**

Albus Dumbledore believed he was getting too old for this.

As he strode out of the Hogwarts castle and into the quiet streets of Hogsmeade, he knew he had far better things to do today. With Voldemort still at the height of his power, horcruxes hidden inside his office, training sessions with Regulus Black, _and_ the peculiar conundrum that was Hermione Pettigrew, the old wizard understandably had too much on his plate right now. The ministry had been wringing him raw for ideas on how to keep the Death Eaters at bay, calling meetings at ungodly hours of the day just so they could discreetly discuss tactics to strengthen the protection of Muggle and Wizard alike from the Dark Lord. The Order of the Phoenix had been tiring him too, especially with the new predicament of the members being stalked by Voldemort's minions.

All in all, Dumbledore was a very, _very_ busy man and he wished for today to be at least a peaceful one just so he could collect his thoughts, spend time with his beloved phoenix, and browse through the various knitting magazines he'd procured from a Muggle bookshop to brush up on his knitting skills.

Regrettably, he was an educator above all, with a formidable school to oversee. The students' welfare was still one of his top priorities and Dumbledore knew he couldn't let this current problem of his slide. Not when parents had been persistently owling him for days, demanding to find an immediate replacement for the Divinations professor, Gawain Cayce, seeing that OWLs and NEWTs were fast approaching and their children needed to learn.

Hence, here was the great and almighty Albus Dumbledore, walking through the streets of Hogsmeade in hopes of hiring a decent replacement for Professor Cayce so that he could finally achieve the momentary peace he wanted for himself.

It was Professor McGonagall's usual job to fill in the teacher positions for Hogwarts, but the Deputy Headmistress was currently indisposed. He'd rather not wait for her to return a fortnight from now and endure the wrath of tenacious parents, thank you very much.

Albus kindly smiled at those who were still prowling the streets at night until he arrived at the Hog's Head. The small overhead bell made a cheery jingle when he went inside. As always, the whole place had seen better days. Cobwebs were present in every corner he could see. Some of the tables looked rickety enough to topple after a couple more uses. Most of the frequent patrons looked quite shady, nursing a dirtied glass filled with firewhiskey to the brim, already lost in their own little worlds.

A soft, exasperated sigh escaped from his lips, his eyes instantly latching on Aberforth. His younger brother had always been untidy, even as a child. He'd admittedly believed it would be _disastrous_ for Aberforth to man a pub, much less one that was near Hogwarts, but it had been surprisingly thriving. If one was willing to overlook the fact that the Hog's Head smelled strangely of goats, the meal and drinks would be deemed passable.

His younger brother caught his eye and tipped his head in greeting. He then canted his chin towards one of the back rooms in the pub and went back to wiping the bar counter.

Albus sadly smiled at Aberforth's curt dismissal, but it was a _start_. At least he was already talking to him again. Aberforth still hadn't forgiven him for Ariana and he technically hadn't apologised for it either. But he was just happy they were interacting once more. He was glad that if there was one good thing Voldemort's reign of terror had brought, it was to painstakingly mend the strained relationship he had with his younger brother.

As the Headmaster continued his saunter towards the backdoor, he faltered in his steps, noticing a group of young men out of the corner of his eyes. Normally, he would have ignored them all together and gone on with his business, but it was troublesome how a group of _rich Purebloods_ were huddled in a group, speaking quietly amongst themselves. He was able to recognise Lucius Malfoy, whose platinum blond hair was haphazardly concealed under a dark, heavy cloak. He'd recognised the Lestrange siblings too, and Barty Crouch Jr. and Evan Rosier.

His heart painfully clenched, remembering Regulus's list of recruited Death Eaters. Loath was he to admit it, but he'd always known these Purebloods would blindly follow in Voldemort's footsteps. With their sheer bigotry and obvious glorification for anything pure, their path had been decided as soon as they'd stepped foot inside Hogwarts. He greatly regretted not intervening, but Dumbledore was powerless against the families of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. He might have won Order of Merlin First Class, snagged the position of Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, become the longest running Headmaster of Hogwarts, and accumulated various awards and prestige to last him a lifetime, but Albus Dumbledore knew that in the eyes of these bigoted wizards, he would always, _always_ be a Muggle-loving Half-blood fool.

Admittedly, he was curious as to what they were meeting about, but Dumbledore didn't come here to rouse suspicion. He took a mental note to question Regulus about any updates on Voldemort's end, before scurrying off towards the backdoor. He might have imagined a pair of silver eyes watching his movements, but when he sent another glance at the suspicious group, they were already lost in their own conversation.

He met Aberforth's eyes prior to coming inside the backroom, a silent plea in his gaze. His brother's eyes briefly landed at the group of Death Eaters and he gave the tiniest of nods, before attending to another customer.

When Dumbledore stepped inside, the waiting witch instantly bounded onto her feet. "Headmaster Dumbledore!" she floundered, her obnoxious bangles banging noisily with her nervous greeting.

"Please, Sybill, take a seat," he said, lightly smiling at the ditzy blonde.

Albus took his time to sit on the chair opposite Sybill Trelawney and keenly observed her, knowing full well she was growing uncomfortable with his gaze.

He'd never forgotten a student he'd handled in Hogwarts. As an odd, little witch, Sybill was someone who'd stuck in his memories, fondly remembering all those times she'd burst out into random prophecies that had scared off her peers. As bizarre as she was, it was saddening to see the Ravenclaw a lonely girl. But then again, with his old age and wide generation gap, he couldn't really do something for students like her, except to silently cheer them on.

He wasn't entirely surprised that she'd immediately sent her application when Dumbledore had announced the vacancy of the Divinations position. He'd already interviewed other aspirants, some really sticking out from the others. He was actually considering hiring Calliope Dearborn as the replacement, but Professor McGonagall reckoned it would be best to interview other applicants just in case someone else caught Dumbledore's fancy.

Sybill Trelawney, truth be told, absolutely did _not_ catch Dumbledore's fancy. Although her family was famously known for producing seers—Dumbledore had been a really good friend of her grandmother, Cassandra Trelawney—he supposed Sybill wasn't appropriate for the position. She did spout various false prophecies during her youth and Dumbledore still wanted what was best for his students after all.

"How are you, Sybill?" he calmly asked.

Her eyes widened at his question, already making them unnaturally magnified and glassy because of her huge spectacles. "Quite well, Dumbledore. Thank you," she breathily replied. She gestured at the teapot set on the table and asked, "How do you like your tea?"

"With two cubes of sugar and a dash of milk, please."

He quietly observed her as she prepared their tea, already coming up with a decent excuse to let her down easy.

The eccentric witch then pushed the tea towards Dumbledore and stared wide-eyed, waiting for him to take a sip. He realised what she was trying to do and, with an internal sigh, he knew he had no other choice but to indulge the witch.

"Tell me, Sybill," Dumbledore calmly said, placing down his half-empty teacup back on the saucer. Her disappointed look wasn't left unnoticed, but she snapped her eyes back towards the wizard. "Why do you think you would be suitable for this position?"

"Oh," she said, nervously twisting a blonde curl with her finger. "Well, you see, Headmaster, if it escaped your notice, I belong to a family of _seers_."

His smile was tight. "I'm very good friends with your grandmother, Sybill," he replied. "And I do believe you declared various prophecies during your youth."

Her cheeks coloured sheepishly, her eyes now landing on the tabletop. "Various prophecies, yes," she airily replied. She shot another look at his teacup, and with an exasperated sigh, Dumbledore downed the remaining lukewarm tea.

"May I?" she tentatively asked, already extending a hand. Dumbledore silently gave her the empty teacup and watched as her eyes skimmed the clumped tea leaves at the bottom of the cup. With a pale face, she looked at Dumbledore and gravely replied, "You're going to die a slow, _painful_ death, Headmaster. I believe you should stray away from any dark artifacts lying around. They may curse you if you are not careful enough."

His lips twitched in amusement, remembering the locked horcruxes inside his office. He also remembered Hermione's serious warning for him to steer clear off the Gaunt ring, insisting he placed a lot of warding spells on the ring box housing it. Perhaps, Sybill's prophecy wasn't too farfetched. "Thank you for the warning," he replied with a kind smile. "I will keep that in mind."

The witch returned his teacup, but before he could retrieve his hand back, Sybill had desperately clung to it with both of her smaller hands. Tears welled in her eyes, making her eyes more strangely glassy. "Please, Headmaster, I truly need this job," she sobbed. "I've been aimlessly searching for an opportunity for _months_ but have miserably failed. I am practically penniless and I-I have nowhere else to go."

His eyes softened, reaching forward to pat her hands with his other free hand. "Please, Sybill, there's no need for your tears," he comforted.

She took a loud sniff and haphazardly wiped her tears away. Sybill then took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to bite down on her bottom lip to stifle her whimpers. Dumbledore worriedly patted his robes for a handkerchief, but then, his eyes slightly widened when her eyes glazed over. Sybill convulsed for a few moments before she slumped forward, head bowed down.

Dumbledore had only witnessed a true prophecy once, breathed out by her grandmother predicting the fall of Grindelwald, and it was undeniable that Sybill was about to declare another one.

He quickly conjured an orb and placed it on top of the table. At the same time, Sybill took a sharp intake of breath and voiced out words, her voice distorted and strained.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches," she announced. Dumbledore sat ramrod straight, realising the prophecy she was spouting concerned Voldemort's downfall. "Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…"

A flash of grey eyes and platinum blond caught Dumbledore's eyes. He immediately stood up, unable to process Sybill's full prophecy, and grimly stared at the small, open slit of the door.

"What are you doing there, boy?! Out! Out! All of you! Out!" Aberforth's gruff voice called from the other side of the room. Dumbledore didn't have to look outside to know that it was Lucius Malfoy who'd overheard the first part of the prophecy.

He heard a few scraping chairs and scrambling footsteps. A few insults were thrown at his younger brother, but knowing Aberforth, the Hog's Head owner growled back expletives with practiced ease.

Once the ruckus from outside had died down, Albus glanced back at Sybill. The seer was slumped forward, her forehead resting against the cold, hard wooden table top. Beside her, the silvery orb glowed, echoes of whispered words swirling around.

The young witch suddenly sat back up, a confused look in her eyes. Her large glasses were perched askew on the bridge of her nose as she rapidly blinked her eyes at Dumbledore. "Oh, sorry," she said, lifting a hand to fix her glasses. "What were you saying, Headmaster?"

Albus tightly smiled and slipped down onto his chair once more. "I was saying that you can start moving into Professor Cayce's vacant room next week, Sybill," he calmly said. Sybill had gone misty-eyed.

"Really?" she gasped.

She wasn't the best choice, he admitted. Calliope Dearborn was still better in all ways. But he was afraid that Sybill Trelawney's life had just become ten times more important in this war than anybody else in this world. With Lucius Malfoy overhearing the first part of the prophecy, Dumbledore didn't doubt her life was already in danger. It would be best if he kept her as close to him as possible in order to protect her from Voldemort's wrath.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, Professor Trelawney."

* * *

**February 4, 1980**

Lily Evans-Snape believed she was too stupid for this job.

Glaring warily at the small, angel statue on the top of her desk, she couldn't, for the life of her, understand how such an innocent statue could bring such huge misfortune over a quaint town in Derbyshire. She'd been slaving over this dark artifact for weeks and yet, she still couldn't crack the mystery of this stupid, _stupid_ statue. Her husband had already pointed out she was getting too obsessed with it, stealing all of her time away from _him_ but sadly, Lily couldn't set the statue aside.

The exhilaration of trying to decode the mysteries of the statue pumped adrenaline through her veins, but Lily felt too tired today to tinker with its obscure magic. Glancing miserably at the plain, white paint of her cramped office, she prayed to Merlin someone would whisk her away from this exasperating project.

Lily flinched when three, curt knocks filled her office. Wide-eyed, she stared at her unpretentious ceiling again, wondering if her Unspeakable-trained mind had started conjuring the most impossible things. "Unspeakable Snape?" a soft voice called from the other side of the door, followed by three more knocks.

Lily snorted at the address, still terribly unused to being called as such. Sev told her he didn't really mind if she continued using her last name. After all, it would be such a waste if everybody started addressing her by a name she'd merely acquired through marriage. They'd finally settled on an agreement that Lily would hyphenate, but her co-workers reckoned 'Evans-Snape' was too long. Lily had come to finally accept she'd be 'Snape' to them. Truthfully, she didn't mind at all.

"Come in," she called, realising she hadn't given her answer.

The door creaked open and the Department intern, a wiry, fidgety redhead named Saul Croaker, peeked inside. "Unspeakable Snape," he greeted, fully stepping inside when Lily ushered him to come in.

"What is it, Saul?" she asked. Her eyes grew wide and pleading, prompting the younger wizard to quirk a smile at her exasperated state. "Please tell me I'm needed elsewhere. _Please_. I think I'm going mad trying to crack the mystery of this… this bloody angel statue!" She threw another glare at the innocent figurine, trying to restrain herself from flinging it across her office.

"You have a visitor," he answered instead. "He specifically asked for your assistance."

Lily's lips fell into a frown. "Visitor?" she echoed. Saul curtly nodded his head. "Very well. Let him in."

Saul disappeared from her office. When he came back, Albus Dumbledore was in tow. Lily's eyes widened, promptly shooting up from her swivelling chair to greet the Order leader. "Headmaster Dumbledore!" she gasped.

"Please, Albus is fine, Lily," he said with an amused smile. "You are not my student anymore."

Her cheeks coloured. "Right, sorry, Albus," she floundered. She then gestured at the empty chair in front of her desk. "Please have a seat. Would you like some tea?"

It bothered her how tightly he pursed his lips. The usual twinkle behind his half-moon spectacles was gone and Lily already had an inkling this visit wasn't merely a friendly one. "I'm afraid we have far more important things to discuss today," he gravely said.

His blue eyes held meaning and with a curt nod, she hastily dismissed a curious Saul and settled back down on her seat.

She quietly watched as Dumbledore pulled out a glowing orb from his robe pockets and placed it on top of her desk. Her eyes widened, recognising it as a prophecy, having seen multiple orbs lining the high shelves of the Prophecy Room. "I-I don't think I have the jurisdiction to look at a prophecy, Prof— _Albus_ ," she said, hastily covering up her slip. "I'm still in the first year of my training and Senior Unspeakables handle them instead. Let me—"

He cut her off with a raise of his hand. "I've already talked to Broderick, Lily," he reassured, pertaining to the Unspeakable directly handling Lily. "He has given me the permission to decipher the prophecy with you."

Her brows knitted in suspicion.

"You see, it is about Voldemort," he calmly explained, unfazed by the little gasp Lily expelled. "I think it will be best if the prophecy stayed amongst the members of the Order."

"What about Voldemort?"

Instead of answering her, Dumbledore pulled out his wand and tapped the glass orb thrice. White mist billowed out, swirling into an image until Lily recognised the eccentric Sybill Trelawney. She only remembered her as an older Ravenclaw, traipsing around Hogwarts and proclaiming ridiculous prophecies that drove the other students away from her. Her nose unwittingly wrinkled, knowing that she was a sham. But she pursed her lips and stared at Sybill's face. Her eyes were glazed, almost like in a trance state, and when she opened her lips, the voice she expelled was low and distorted.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…" she ominously started. "Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…" The dubious expression on Lily's face morphed into surprised curiosity. "And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have a power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"

Once the prophecy ended, the white mist swirled back into the glass orb.

Deafening silence followed Sybill's ominous declaration, and Lily took that time to mull over the words she had just heard. Her mind was already a jumbled mess from the prophecy, but there were startling snippets that stuck in her mind. 'Born to those who have thrice defied him' meant the parents of this future saviour had already been fighting against Voldemort's tyranny, refusing to join his cause. And the child… 'Born as the seventh month dies'… That one was easier to decipher and when Lily arrived at that conclusion, the curiosity on her face bled into utter horror, tears now gathering in the corner of her wide, emerald eyes.

Dumbledore was smiling sadly at her expression. "The Longbottoms' child will be born in July," he said.

"So will James and Hermione's," she croaked, the tears now steadily pouring down her pale face.

She didn't like the look on Dumbledore's face because he was always, _always_ hopeful. The dark shadows under his dim eyes and the grim line on his face meant that this issue was burdening him greatly and Lily could not accept that. "Prophecies aren't predictions of the future," she harshly spat, speaking out one of the primary rules she'd learned in the Department of Mysteries.

"No, they're not," Dumbledore said, quirking a small, comforting smile. "Many prophecies have not come to pass."

"But you're worried," she accused. "It's written all over your face." She knew she was being rude to perhaps the greatest wizard that had ever graced this world, but fear had creeped into Lily's heart for the brunette she had come to love like a sister.

The old wizard looked wearier, aging more years right before her eyes. Dumbledore pursed his lips tightly and Lily waited for him to collect his thoughts. "Prophecies are uttered as a warning of a possible future," Dumbledore started. "They drive a monumental change of attitude to _change the present_ , not actively predict a rigid future." His lips twitched into a sad smile, his eyes meeting her watery gaze. "There is no definite future, branched instead into infinite possibilities that will solely depend on the actions of those who are in the present. I think this simple fact is often glossed over, with individual minds already consumed by terror or anticipation of a future that would _always_ be uncertain. I believe even Voldemort, no matter how brilliant that brain of his, would be like this too."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Tom, I'm afraid, is driven by greed and hate," Dumbledore continued. "If he ever discovers this prophecy, he'd do whatever it takes to destroy those who will possibly pave the path towards his downfall."

Lily gasped in horror. "But a baby!" she cried.

"Whatever it takes," he echoed, his stare hard and firm as Lily unabashedly started to sob.

"We have to tell them," she demanded. "We have to tell Hermione… _Hermione_ —" Words were drowned by her terrified cries, heart painfully clenching for her best friend who'd been through a lot already. Lily still couldn't imagine how Hermione was able to survive all those years in her previous life. Ever since she'd discovered about Hermione Granger, Lily had fervently wished Hermione Pettigrew would live a happy life, devoid of the misery and pain her past life had been familiarly acquainted with for years. But now… _now_ , with this blasted prophecy, Hermione would be subjected to such obstacles once more and Lily's heart hurt for her best friend.

"We will," Dumbledore said with a reassuring smile, fishing out a handkerchief from his pocket and extending it towards the distraught witch. "I do not want to lie and say they will be perfectly safe. But we will _protect_ them."

Despite her swimming eyes, Lily's gaze turned resolute. Hermione might be facing another huge obstacle that may be difficult to overcome, but Lily would protect her and stay by her side, no matter what.

* * *

**February 9, 1980**

Anya Pettigrew believed she was too lenient with her children.

Wrinkling her nose at her empty house, Anya once again believed that Hermione and Peter were hiding something from her. She had bathed them, fed them, nurtured them, and loved them endlessly after all. Even though they'd never spoken about anything suspicious when she was in the room, she'd noticed the nervous glint in their eyes and how their jaws tensed, minds too preoccupied with bothersome thoughts.

Anya truly wanted to know what was wrong. Her impatience sometimes got the better of her, wanting to snarl angry words at her children and relieve her from the misery of being left in the dark. But Anya would remind herself she wasn't that girl anymore. She wasn't the perfect Selwyn daughter, with a fiery temper that could burn down a village, and a sharp tongue that could slice a man's heart in two. She'd long since turned her back on her past and had embraced her quiet, present life, with children she loved more than life itself.

 _Still_ , her children were testing her patience. She doubted Peter was only doing Auror duties. It was especially worrisome because Hermione, her _pregnant_ daughter, was also doing something behind her back. Anya just wished they would tell her what was wrong because as their mother, she truly wanted to help them in any way she could.

But today, with both her children away from home doing their business, Anya was glad for the solitude. A bewildering letter from someone she'd never thought of talking to, ever since she'd turned her back on her family, was sent to her yesterday, and he was begging to meet her. Anya was hesitant to agree, but he was still her brother after all, and thus relented with the condition they met at her own _home_ , knowing completely he'd be nervous around all the Muggle things.

A polite knock from the front door roused her from her thoughts. Anya took a deep breath to calm her frazzled nerves and stood up straighter, chin a little higher, before striding towards the door and yanking it open.

Alexei Selwyn tensely stood outside her Muggle house and although his face did not betray any emotion, Anya could see that his clear, blue eyes held discomfort.

She felt her heart stuttering at the sight of the man two years older than her, with a proud brow and chiselled bones that screamed the perfect Pureblood heir of the House of Selwyn. His hair was a few shades darker than Anya's, gelled impeccably on top of his head without a single strand out of place.

For a moment, her childhood with this tense man flashed before her mind's eye, memories of chasing around the rose garden of the Selwyn Estate and terrorising their poor house-elf. Once upon a time, she'd truly loved him because he was her older brother, and he'd protected her, cared for her, and let little Anastasia get away with shenanigans she had always found herself in. But Anya hadn't spoken to him for years already, much less seen him in the flesh, and it took her a moment to realise that this man standing in front of her was already a stranger.

"May I come in?" he politely asked, his blue eyes warily glancing over her shoulders, most likely dreading all the Muggle contraptions Anya had decorated her home with.

The younger witch stepped aside and let him through. She slowly closed the door and took another deep breath to gather her composure.

When she turned around, her lips slightly twitched into a small smile, finding it ridiculous how the imposing man was standing in the middle of her living room, a completely befuddled and disgusted look painted on his aristocratic face.

"Why did you wish to see me?" she demanded, knowing that engaging this stranger in small talk would be painful and awkward.

Alexei's eyes snapped back towards Anya, a hard glint in his eyes. "Have you been well, Anastasia?" he calmly asked.

The witch snorted. " _Please_ , I know this visit isn't to chat about the weather and all that shite, Alexei," she snapped back. "And that's _Anya_ to you."

A small, fond smile briefly flitted on his face. "Still as feisty as ever, I see," he drawled, a tinge of amusement in his tone of voice. "I thought all those years surrounding yourself with filth may have mellowed you out, _Anastasia_."

Her eyes dangerously flashed. "What do you want?" she demanded. Her fingers flexed, wondering if it would be safe to grasp her wand, just in case. But she thought otherwise, believing that despite their currently different beliefs, Alexei would never hurt his little sister.

His façade of perfect indifference broke, desperation seeping through the cracks. "It isn't too late, Anya," he whispered. She was forced to look away, thickly swallowing at the emotions swirling in his blue eyes. "The Dark Lord is steadily gaining power. In a few months, he will completely take over the Wizarding World. Run back to your life… run back with _me_. He will spare you, I promise. If you pledge your allegiance to him and vow to forever serve him, he will spare you and your family. You were brilliant with the Dark Arts. The Dark Lord will appreciate your service and your skills."

"That isn't me anymore, Alexei," she ground out. "You know that."

His desperation morphed into unadulterated anger. "You were always the more intelligent one between us," he spat. "But when that stupid _filth_ caught your heart, you became spineless and decided to run away! That vermin didn't love you, Anya. You were blinded by that drunkard's pointless promises when all he ever did was _fucking hit you_."

She recoiled as if he'd physically slapped her himself. Her blue eyes misted, but she refused to let her tears fall. "You were spying on me," she snarled. "All these years, you've been _spying_ on me and my family." She was deeply ashamed of how she'd ended up married to a man she thought had loved her as _her_ – magic and all. Anya knew she was partially at fault for being vague about her past to Timothy, telling him she was from an old, rich family but conveniently leaving out the fact that she was a witch _._ And for years, they had been truly happy. Timothy loved her very much, treated her right, and cared for her and their small family. But she knew it was only a matter of time before she needed to reveal what she truly was. When Timothy discovered one-year-old Peter could levitate his toys, Anya had no choice but to tell him the woman he'd married was a witch.

She'd truly thought he would accept her— _hoped_ fervently, even. But Timothy couldn't accept her magical background and had grown distant, turning to his liquor for comfort. He'd grown abusive too – at first verbally, and then _physically_ , and he'd once told her during one of his drunken states that the only reason he stayed with her was because of the children.

Anya knew the only reason why she stayed, why she endured all the abuse, was because of the children too. Looking back now, she realised staying with Timothy had been her greatest mistake. Perhaps, if she'd left, Peter wouldn't have that strange glint in his eyes every time he did something wrong, as if wondering whether he was turning into that monster. Perhaps, Hermione wouldn't have been exposed to violence at such a very young age.

But, to her knowledge, none of the Selwyns had known he'd become abusive once he discovered he'd married a witch. And to discover that they'd been spying on her family for _years_ , without even stepping in to intervene, left a bad taste in Anya's mouth.

Alexei didn't even bother coming up with a lie. Instead, he stiffly strode towards his sister and towered over her form. The Selwyn heir was truly terrifying if he wanted to be, but Anya had been immune to his disastrous temper, having been able to match it with her equally terrifying one. "I thought you'd learnt your lesson," he snarled. "I thought after the way _he'd_ treated you, you'd realise that you are surrounded by filth and the only way to get rid of people like him is to go back to your family and embrace the Dark Lord's beliefs. Father would have gladly welcomed you back, Anya. Mother would have been harder to sway, but she would have accepted you, if you'd promised not to turn your back on us again."

Her heart painfully clenched at the mention of her parents. They loved her, _truly_ , because despite how the Dark Arts had corrupted their hearts, her parents still showed how much they truly cared for her by giving her everything she wanted.

Tears sprang in her eyes and she determinedly took a few steps away from her enraged brother. "If I was given the choice to go back, Alexei, I'd gladly run away again," she whispered. Perhaps, the real reason why she ran away was because of her love for Timothy. But, Anya knew in the deepest recesses of her heart that she couldn't fully embrace the Dark Arts. She'd seen how Alexei, the brother she'd looked up to, had changed when he'd started to hang out with the wrong sort of wizards. And Anya didn't want that for herself.

"Anya—"

She vigorously shook her head as tears poured out from her eyes. "I've missed you so much, Alexei. I _love_ you because you're my brother," she whispered. "But I love my children more than anything else in this world. I cannot go back and watch as _your_ precious Dark Lord dims the light in their eyes."

"How dare you—"

"Get out," she harshly spat, unwilling to listen to him anymore. "I've already made my choice and it is clear to me that it isn't congruent with yours."

Her brother shook and balled his hands into fists. "This is your last chance, Anastasia," he said through greeted teeth. "Otherwise, you've practically marked yourself as an enemy of the Dark Lord."

She pursed her lips and met his gaze. Despite inheriting the Selwyn eyes, Alexei's had always been a few shades lighter. Often, they were almost grey, the lightest being when her brother was at his happiest. Young Anya was admittedly jealous of his pretty eyes. But now… _now_ , Alexei's eyes were almost icy grey, his stare cold and unforgiving. Truly, the brother she had loved was gone.

There was a hard, dangerous glint in his eyes and Anya's wand hand shook. Wild sirens inside her mind went off, crackling magic coursing through her veins and into each of her fingertips. Alexei towered over her menacingly, and before she could even pull out her wand, his was already clutched tightly in his hand.

A dark curse slipped out of his lips, hitting her squarely on the chest. Anya's eyes widened, disbelieving that her brother had resorted to this, to _hurting_ her, just because she refused to join Voldemort's cause.

As she slumped onto the floor, with darkness steadily claiming her consciousness, the last thing Anya thought was that her brother was dead, gone forevermore.

**-ooo-**

James Potter believed he was too young for all of these bullshite.

He'd always lived a privilege life, properly doted on as the future heir of an old, rich Pureblood family. For most of his youth, he'd believed he could get whatever he wanted. He grew up admittedly spoiled and it was very hard for him to accept a resounding 'no'. Sometimes, he wondered how his friends had stuck by him, especially on days when he was incorrigible at best. Which was why he had been understandably flummoxed at being constantly rejected by Lily Evans because how could _she_? He was rich, he had above average looks, he was bloody brilliant at Transfiguration and Charms, and he'd been hailed as one of the best Chasers Hogwarts had ever seen.

Loath was he to admit it, but he knew he'd always had it easy. Among the four Marauders, he had the best life. Sirius had been born into a family who now wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. Remus had been bitten by Fenrir Greyback at a very young age and was stuck with an accursed affliction for the rest of his life. And Peter had accidentally killed his abusive father with his magic, which still constantly haunted him on days when he was at his lowest.

So perhaps, falling in love with an incorrigible witch was fate's way of shaking him out of his carefree, privileged life.

Hermione Pettigrew was still the best thing that had ever happened to him, of course. It still dumbfounded him at times how a brilliant, terrifying witch had fallen in love with him. But he wasn't prepared to discover that she was a time traveller, a hardened War Heroine where she had always been at the forefront, fighting alongside The-Boy-Who-Lived. He wasn't prepared to see how her eyes sometimes turned forlorn, gazing unseeingly into a nightmare only she was able to conjure in her mind. He wasn't prepared to accept that she'd throw herself recklessly in front of harm's way, even if it would cost her her life.

Falling in love with Hermione Pettigrew came with a lot of baggage, which she'd willingly burdened on her shoulders because that was just how she was—golden-hearted, bright-eyed, and a force to be reckoned with.

After everything she'd revealed to him, James just wanted to envelop her in his arms and hide her away from all the coiling turmoil in this bloody fucking world. The desire had especially increased now that she was carrying his child, his _heir_ , and pushing those temptations away was a constant struggle every day. Hermione would surely lash out a well-aimed Bat-Bogey Hex his way if she realised what his thoughts were always about.

"All right, Prongs?"

He was brought back into the reality and lightly glared at his shaggy-haired best friend. Sirius's eyes widened, realising what he'd just asked. "Of course you're bloody not," he said with a heavy sigh.

James looked away as his eyes misted. "I don't think I can tell her, mate," he croaked.

Sirius expelled another heavy sigh and patted his arm in comfort. "I know," he murmured. "I'll do the talking, James."

They'd finally arrived at the back garden of the Potter Manor. It was still terribly cold, but winter was slowly blossoming into spring. The garden was already starting to boast the beautiful flowers Euphemia loved so much, their blooming petals bright and stark amidst the thin blanket of snow on the ground.

Seated at one of the tables was his mother and fiancée, browsing through various catalogues for James's approaching marriage with Hermione. The younger witch was obviously uncomfortable, but Hermione had masked it behind her pretty smile and bright eyes, indulging the excited older witch.

"Oh, you're here!" Euphemia exclaimed. Hermione's eyes latched onto the newcomers, and the polite smile she was wearing turned into a full-blown smile.

James thickly swallowed, unable to match her beautiful smile, knowing full well that it would disappear as soon as they broke the news. Hermione's smile faltered, noting the grim look on his face.

"Come, James," his oblivious mother said. "Hermione and I were just trying to decide which flowers would best suit your wedding. I was thinking of lilies of the valley, but I still want to add some vibrant colour to the ceremony. Perhaps, a new set of eyes will help us decide."

His eyes never strayed to Euphemia, intently latched onto Hermione's suddenly worried gaze. In three big strides, he reached his pregnant fiancée and engulfed her into a tight hug.

"James?" she worriedly asked. "What's wrong?"

His hold around her merely tightened, deciding that he'd be her anchor after Sirius broke the news.

"Hermione," Sirius gravely called. He felt her stiffen in his embrace, because they both knew the smarmy bastard always made it a point to tease her with his fond nickname. She could already detect from Sirius's tone of voice and his serious address, that something was very, very _wrong_. "There has been an attack at your home. Your mother… she's…"

James tightened his hold around Hermione as tears sprang in his eyes.

"She's in St. Mungo's."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe cliffhanger hehe sorry.
> 
> Fun Fact: If you still haven't figured it out, Anastasia/Anya is a huge nod to the animated film/broadway 'Anastasia'. I love it so much, I've memorised Journey to the Past and Once Upon a December by heart ahahaha so yeah. So, I think it's just fitting to name her brother 'Alexei', who was the brother of the Grand Duchess. 
> 
> This chapter is really just my excuse so I can write in Lily's and Anya's POV. I'll never get tired of saying this but I'm really fond of these two witches huhu.
> 
> Anyway, so yes, I hope this chapter answered another question that's been constantly asked in this fanfic hahahaha. How they'll deal with it, though… well, patiently wait for the future updates then haha! Everything henceforth will be a whirlwind of plot-heavy chapters so yeah. More causes of headache for me lmao! I can't wait for this monstrous fic to end 😭
> 
> See you tomorrow.
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes)!


	50. chapter forty-nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I initially intended to break this chapter into two because it's sooooo long but I didn't know where I'd end it so what the hell hahaha. A lot of things will happen in this chapter lmao I hope I don't overwhelm you.
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

**xxxxix.**

_**i will love you with every single thing i have** _

(Two by Sleeping at Last)

* * *

**February 11, 1980**

Hermione's eyes fluttered open when fingertips ghosted over her cheeks. She squinted her eyes when harsh, bright light assaulted her senses. A bit disoriented, she realised she'd fallen asleep while sitting on a chair, head buried underneath her arms which were placed on a bed. A white starchy blanket fell over her shoulders when she pulled herself up, and it was only when she met Anya's clear, blue eyes that Hermione remembered where she was.

"Mum!" she cried, already launching into Anya's arms, careful enough to avoid the bandages tied around her abdomen.

"Hello, sweetheart," her mother greeted with a small, sweet smile. The smile then morphed into a pained grimace as she glanced down at her injury. "Are we in St. Mungo's?"

The brunette blinked back her tears and pulled away from the confused witch. "Yes," she said, reaching out to tightly clutch onto Anya's hand, as if afraid she'd be hexed with a dark curse once more. "Do you remember what happened to you, Mum?" Terror struck her face as she squeezed her hand tighter. "There was a Dark Mark over our house and the Aurors thought… the Aurors thought you were—" The words died down from her lips, unable to voice out one of Hermione Pettigrew's greatest fears.

When James and Sirius had arrived at the Potter Manor bearing bad news, Hermione instantly thought of the worst possible scenario. Sirius hastily assured her that Anya was still alive but had been gravely injured.

She couldn't remember how she'd arrived at St. Mungo's after that. Hermione almost worried herself sick as she waited outside her mother's room, pacing furiously just to do _something_. James urged her to rest, that it wouldn't be good for the baby, but Hermione was too distraught to keep still. It was only when Peter arrived, with tears in his eyes, that she allowed herself to be dragged down onto a chair. She'd clung to Peter, terrified that Anya would be taken from them both, when they weren't ready to lose her yet.

The Healers soon came out, reassuring the family that Anya wasn't in danger anymore. However, the dark curse had tired her and they didn't expect her to wake up for the rest of the day.

Hermione had reverently stayed beside Anya, waiting for her mother to wake up. Peter and the others had long left St. Mungo's to continue the investigation. Her brother was reluctant to go, but Hermione urged him to join the others. Peter promised he'd drop by once they'd filed their report.

"How long was I unconscious?" her mother then asked, her soft voice breaking through Hermione's tumultuous thoughts.

"About a day and a half," she croaked, more tears tumbling down from her eyes. "You've given us quite a scare, Mum."

Anya's blue eyes filled with tears as she brushed her fingers against Hermione's cheek. "Was it that bad?" she asked.

"The Healers told us you were lucky," Hermione explained. "Said that if you'd been brought in an hour later then—" Her breath hitched, her mouth still unwilling to continue that sentence. In spite of her tears and the fear in her heart, Hermione managed to expel a dry chuckle. "Mrs. Jones saw the Dark Mark over our house and she thought we were up to something again and immediately called the Muggle cops. She might be a spiteful old lady, but we owe her _everything_ , Mum." She fearfully threw her arms around Anya's shoulders again and sobbed. "If it weren't for her, you'd be—"

"Hush now, sweetheart," her mother whispered, placing a sweet kiss on her head. "Worrying too much will be harmful for you and the baby."

"Don't worry about me," Hermione insisted. "Worry about yourself more."

Anya softly chuckled. "Hermione, the moment I held you in my arms, I knew you'd be my top priority," her mother said. "You and Peter both come first. Even in terms of worrying."

"But what really happened, Mum?" she asked again. "The wards you placed around the house were decent enough. Peter and I agreed adding a few more wouldn't hurt because of the increasing attacks. How was a Death Eater able to breach our wards? It doesn't make sense."

While she rambled on, Hermione noticed the guilt in Anya's eyes. The brunette thoughtfully nibbled on her bottom lip, trying to ponder over Anya's expression, when realisation finally dawned. With widened eyes, she breathily continued, "Unless… unless you willingly let one in."

Anya's expression was already telling and Hermione couldn't understand. She knew her mother had already integrated herself back into the Wizarding World, constantly visiting the Potters to converse with Euphemia over tea. But despite this, Anya still steered away from bustling Wizarding streets such as Diagon Alley and from what she remembered, Anya hadn't associated herself with other wizards or witches.

"Mum…" She faltered, grasping onto Anya's elbow and waited until she met her eyes once more.

"It was my fault," her mother sighed. "I received a letter a few days ago from my brother."

"Brother!" Hermione gasped in shock. Anya rarely told them about her family, but Hermione had done her research. Even as Hermione Granger, she'd never really known about the Selwyns, except that they were staunch supporters of Voldemort. Which admittedly made her curious, to be related to people who'd supported an evil wizard that had brought terror and turmoil over the Wizarding World. It didn't bother her at all, especially because she was brought up and taken care of by such a wonderful witch. She was just thankful her mother had run away from home and Hermione wasn't forced to live amongst Pureblood bigots.

Anya's eyes welled with more tears, deep pain and betrayal painted on her pale face. "My brother and I… we used to be just like you and Peter, my love," her mother explained, daintily sniffing as she swiped her wet cheeks. "But I ran away from home when I fell in love with your father and I cut off all ties with my family. I thought… I thought he wanted to reach out, after all these years."

Hermione's glistening eyes hardened. "He did this to you," she harshly spat.

A small, sad smile appeared on her mother's face. "It was my fault for trusting him, in spite of everything I knew he'd done with his life," she said.

"That _bastard_!" Hermione growled. "I will tell Peter and—"

"Hermione," her mother cut her off, "I'd rather your brother doesn't know who attacked me."

She deflated, a confused look on her face. "But Mum, he needs to be imprisoned for what he did to you," she insisted.

"He's still my brother."

"Who tried to murder you!"

"Sweetheart," Anya appeased, "it's fine. I'm just glad I'm still alive to see you get married to a man who absolutely adores you and who has given me the grandchild I've always wanted."

Hermione's face crumpled, disbelieving her words. But she'd forgotten this was Anya Pettigrew, the same woman who'd endured years of abuse from a man who didn't love her. "Why are you being stubborn about this, Mum?" she rasped. "What if he comes back and finishes the deed? I want you to be safe!"

Her mother brushed away her errant tears and smiled sadly. "I have far more important things to worry about than my idiotic brother," she said. "For starters, your _marriage_ and _pregnancy_."

"Maybe I should tell James we should postpone the wedding," the younger witch suggested, but Anya was furiously shaking her head.

"No, _no_ , I will forbid that," her mother firmly replied. "I've been waiting for years for this to happen, Hermione."

Despite her tears, Hermione huffed a laugh. "I'm the one who's getting married, Mum. Not you."

Anya pointedly looked at Hermione, her grip on her shoulders warm and firm. "But really, sweetheart," she slowly said. "Just because we are at war doesn't mean happiness must be postponed." She fondly brushed away Hermione's curls and smiled. "Remember that."

**-ooo-**

Hermione's eyes flew open and met hazel.

"Hi," James whispered, brushing away the curls on her face.

The brunette blearily blinked her eyes and shifted on the hospital bed. She briefly glanced up at her sleeping mother, her arm loosely wrapped around her waist. Hermione wasn't quite sure how she'd ended up snuggling against Anya, but she already had an inkling this was her mother's doing. How an injured Anya was able to do it, Hermione didn't know either.

"How's Anya?" he worriedly asked as Hermione pulled herself out of the bed.

"She woke up a few hours ago," she reassured. Hermione paused, noted the dark bags under James's eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept a wink, and concerned, she reached forward and brushed her thumb against his pale cheek. "When was the last time you slept?"

He cracked a wry smile. "It doesn't matter," he replied. Their attention was directed towards the door when Sirius and Peter came inside. Her blue eyes prickled with tears when she saw her brother, who was already bounding towards her to give her a hug.

"Is Mum okay?" Peter croaked, voice already thick with tears. Both he and Sirius also looked terrible, no doubt exhausted from this whole ordeal.

"She's awakened," she reassured, patting his back in added comfort. "Mum's fine. She's just resting again."

Peter sniffed and miserably nodded his head, before pulling away to hastily brush away his tears.

"How's the investigation?" she quietly asked, shifting out of the bed to sit on the chair she'd occupied a while ago.

"Everything's fine, Whiskers," Sirius placated. "You don't have to worry anymore. Think of Prongslet."

"Prongslet?" she snorted, a small, bemused smile flitting on her face.

"Pads is convinced our babe's a boy," James explained with a laugh. "He thought it would be hilarious to give him a nickname already."

Sirius's eyes merrily twinkled. "A fitting name for a future prankster," he giddily replied.

Hermione sighed and in spite of her exhaustion, she smiled. "Not on my watch," she retorted.

The door opened once more, this time an exhausted Remus stumbling inside. "How's your mother?" he worriedly asked upon meeting her eyes.

"She's better," Hermione repeated with a small smile.

Remus didn't return her smile, which was worrisome. "I've talked with the Healer," he explained, striding forward to stand beside Peter. Both she and her brother glanced at the werewolf with worry. "It's nothing to be worried about. But, the dark curse that hit her… he's afraid it might have injured her magical core." Remus expelled a soft sigh, his golden eyes softening in apology. "Your mother might not be able to properly practice her magic for a few weeks."

Fear gripped her heart as she briefly glanced at her sleeping mother.

"She cannot stay at home," Peter insisted. "It's too dangerous."

Hermione slowly nodded her head. "You're right," she murmured. "I'm going to search for a safe house and—"

"That won't be necessary."

She looked at James with surprise in her eyes. "I've talked to my parents," James expounded. "They wholeheartedly agreed that Anya can stay at the Potter Manor while she recuperates." He paused as a laugh escaped from his lips. "In fact, both you and Wormy can stay too until your house is deemed liveable again by the ministry."

Peter's eyes widened. "But… we don't want to impose," her brother replied. "Hermione's right. We can search for a safe house and hide her there while Voldemort's still alive."

"Like I said," the bespectacled Auror repeated, the corners of his mouth twitching upward, "that won't be necessary."

"James—"

"We're going to be a family soon," he cut her off, extending his hand to gently clutch Hermione's. "Honestly, it isn't even a bother. Mum's already terribly lonely because Sirius and I are always away for Auror and Order missions. And she's _tired_ of Dad – her words, not mine, mind you. Mum's grown fond of Anya. She'd be happy to take care of her."

A tear slipped down from Hermione's eyes as she wound her arms around James's torso. "Thank you, James," she said.

"Anything for you, love," he whispered, placing a kiss on the crown of her head.

She lightly smiled, her arms around him tightening.

"Hey, here's an idea," Sirius offered. He carelessly swung an arm over Remus's shoulders and grinned. "Why don't you live with us at Potter Manor too? Just so the Marauders are all living under one roof. Isn't that what we've always dreamt of?"

"What _you've_ always dreamt of," Remus corrected, shrugging Sirius's heavy arm off his shoulders.

"Moony, come on! Think about all the fun we're going to have, pranking Fleamont and Euphemia to our heart's content…"

Remus rolled his eyes, but there was a smile on his face. "I'll be away for a few weeks anyway," he said.

"Dumbledore's still sending you out on various dangerous missions?" Peter asked, frowning deeply with worry.

"It's fine," the werewolf flippantly said, although Hermione could see the hard glint in his eyes. "You lot are too busy with Auror missions anyway. Besides, the Order needs all the help it can get."

He caught Hermione's worried gaze and reassuringly smiled. "Don't worry," he placated. "I'll be back for your wedding. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

She reached out for Remus's hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. "Be careful out there, Remus," she softly pleaded.

He squeezed her hand in return. "Of course I will, Hermione."

* * *

**March 5, 1980**

From where James was standing, he could see that Euphemia Potter was obviously disappointed.

James snorted, his hazel eyes nervously gazing around the small garden. He spied his best mates horsing around, hilariously hanging out with Regulus Black once again disguised as the Muggle neighbour of the Snapes. He wondered if people were starting to get suspicious of the unpretentious Muggle, who constantly appeared during important events in their lives. Euphemia was of course ranting endlessly under her breath to Fleamont, most likely lamenting all the grand plans she'd concocted for their only son's marriage, only for them to be put to waste. Fleamont's eyes were glazed, however, humming in agreement at various times just to appease his wife.

His eyes then swept towards the Snapes, the husband awkwardly patting the redhead's back. James's lips twisted into a bemused smile, watching as Lily tried to rein in her tears but was failing terribly. He remembered she wasn't this weepy on her own wedding day, all smiles and starry eyes when she'd finally said 'I do' to the smarmy git sitting beside her. She honestly looked like she was giving away her _daughter_ , not her best friend.

He saw Hermione's Ravenclaw friends too, names he still embarrassingly couldn't remember. There were a few Gryffindor blokes he'd used to tutor Transfiguration to in attendance, and the Order members they'd invited. Headmaster Dumbledore was amiably talking with some old codgers of the Order, his blue eyes behind half-moon spectacles impossibly bright.

Truth be told, he'd imagined this day differently too. They'd been buried with endless wedding preparations and as the heir of a rich Pureblood family, everybody expected their wedding would be grander than anything they had ever seen. But Euphemia insisted that the wedding should be moved at an earlier date because of the unexpected conception of the future Potter heir, so they'd crammed the preparations too. Besides, with the outside world tense with Voldemort's terror, with Anya still recuperating from the dark curse, and with Hermione constantly feeling under the weather because of her pregnancy, the couple decided they'd make this wedding as simple as possible. Hermione had slaved over the guest list, crossing out people they weren't really acquainted with, until they'd settled on a meagre number of guests.

James didn't really mind. Just as long as he was getting married to Hermione today, everything else didn't matter.

His eyes finally snapped towards the end of the aisle when a soft, melodious music filled the little garden. James felt his heart leaping into his throat, his eyes widening at the sight of Hermione in a glorious, albeit simple, white dress. She'd left her hair down, no doubt tamed by two, whole tubs of Sleekeazy's. Flanking her were Peter and Anya, both Pettigrews unabashedly crying for the whole crowd to see.

Hermione had tears in her eyes too, but the huge, wide smile on her face was unmistakable.

James beamed back when she started her slow walk along the aisle, her bright, blue eyes never gazing away. Everything around him seemed to melt away and all he could see was _her_ , white and bright and beautiful. It felt like he was brought back to Lily and Snape's wedding once more. While everybody was looking at the bride, James's eyes had been solely on Hermione.

It was on that day that he realised he wanted to marry her.

And now, _now_ there she was, walking towards him on the day of their wedding.

A few tears escaped from her bright eyes, but she didn't seem to notice.

'I love you', she mouthed, and James huffed a disbelieving laugh, unbeknownst to her that he was in tears too. It was still surreal, how this brilliant witch loved him despite all the idiotic things he'd done in his life.

'I love you too', he mouthed back, his lips stretching wider, if that were possible.

She and her family finally reached him and James eagerly extended his hand, waiting for Hermione to clutch it with her own. But Peter's grip on her arm was tight, large tears still dripping down from his glistening eyes.

"Peter, honestly," Hermione said underneath her breath followed by a lovely laugh. James pursed his lips and tried his best not to snicker when Peter took a mighty sniff and finally, reluctantly let her go.

Hermione held James's hand and squeezed it tight. Anya gave him a sweet kiss against his wet cheek and pulled Peter away.

With Hermione now standing in front of him, James reckoned he had never seen anyone as beautiful as she was today.

"Hi," he breathed out, placing a hand against her freckled cheek to brush her tears away.

"Hi," she replied, her grin widening.

James cupped her other cheek with his hand and started to lean down to kiss her. Hermione tilted her head to meet him halfway, but the starry-eyed couple paused when someone loudly coughed.

"I believe a kiss is given at the end of the ceremony," a grumpy Alastor Moody snapped.

"Right," James sheepishly smiled as Hermione's cheeks turned a lovely shade of red. "Sorry about that."

"Are we going to start now or what?"

Hermione and James shared an amused glance. "Always so grumpy," James whispered under his breath.

"What was that, Potter?" Moody barked.

"Nothing," he hastily answered. He tugged Hermione so that they were both now facing Moody.

He eyed them both warily before taking a deep breath and proclaiming, "Dearly beloved…"

**-ooo-**

Hermione found herself staring widely at the quaint cottage, the memory of its ruined state resurfacing in her mind. The last time she'd been to Godric's Hollow, she was with Harry to search for Bathilda Bagshot, hoping she'd be in possession of Godric Gryffindor's sword.

A shiver ran down her spine, remembering how the old witch morphed into Nagini, intent on killing them both. Hermione was glad Voldemort still hadn't created that blasted snake. It was the last horcrux they were unable to destroy as Voldemort had grown paranoid at news of their horcrux hunt, constantly keeping the huge snake at his side.

' _No time for such thoughts,'_ she firmly told herself, shaking her head slightly to clear her mind. Today was a happy day and Hermione couldn't afford to reminisce about her horrible past.

She slowly approached the homely cottage, lifting her hand to brush her fingers against the stone wall. At the same time, her other free hand gravitated towards her stomach. She was already showing – and one could tell if she wore her casual clothes, but her small baby bump had been cleverly hidden under the layers and layers of her wedding dress today. In only a few months, her baby would be born, and Hermione was still firmly convinced this was Harry.

Someone cleared his throat behind her and Hermione craned her neck over her shoulder. Regulus in his disguise stood awkwardly behind her, a small, hesitant smile on his face. "What are you doing here?" he asked. "You're the bloody bride, Pettigrew. You should be having fun on your special day."

Hermione snorted and jutted a thumb towards a boisterous James. The bespectacled wizard was loudly outmatching Sirius in a ridiculous dance-off, a small crowd now gathered around them. "I think he's having enough fun for the both of us," she said. "And I guess that's Potter to you now, Regulus. _Or_ better yet, just call me 'Hermione', blimey."

The smirk on his face looked so out-of-place on a supposed unpretentious Muggle. Instead of answering, he extended his hand. "May I have this dance?" he asked.

The music by then had turned into a slow song and with a smile, Hermione placed her hand on top of his and followed him to the dance floor. James and Sirius's ridiculous dance battle ended, the blokes clambering towards the refreshment table. Only a few were swaying on the dance floor. Hermione caught sight of her mother being twirled around by Moody, which brought a surprised smile to her face.

Regulus kept her at a decent distance, his back snapped ramrod straight, and elegantly led her in a simple waltz. "It's mighty suspicious for a Muggle to dance like a Pureblood, you know," she teased.

He snorted. "Please. Just because I'm in disguise doesn't mean I have to act like a bloody _Muggle_." Hermione quirked an eyebrow, prompting his cheeks to redden in embarrassment. "Not that there's nothing wrong with that, of course," he quickly added.

"It's my bloody wedding, Regulus," she pointed out with a laugh, yanking him a little closer. "You're allowed to relax today. No one's going to judge you."

"Except I'm disguised as a weird Muggle thrice your age." He smirked as his dark eyes swept around the small garden. "I can see your mother's questioning look, wondering who the strapping Muggle dancing with her daughter is."

" _Strapping_ , right," she repeated with a teasing glint in her eyes.

His smirk merely morphed into a small grin.

Regulus occasionally twirled her around, bringing out surprised laughs from the bride. He danced with her even when the song changed, matching his steps to the new upbeat.

By the time another slow song played, the Black heir had finally grown relaxed, merely swaying around with Hermione. She grimaced and shot a glare at her feet. They were already killing her, undoubtedly swollen from too much dancing and pregnancy hormones combined.

"What's wrong?"

Hermione sheepishly met his eyes. "Can we sit down?" she asked. "My feet are killing me."

Regulus shot an amused glance at Hermione's feet before wordlessly pulling her towards one of the tables and letting her sit.

"How's your pregnancy, Pettigrew?" he asked as he gave her a glass of water.

She rolled her eyes at his address, but Hermione chose to let it slide. "Shite," she grumbled. She took a quick sip from the cold drink and sighed. "I'm already on my second trimester, though, so things have gotten better. But the hormones and the _aches_ …" She made another face. " _Shite_."

His eyes flicked at her concealed abdomen and Hermione was confused at how forlorn they'd become. "You know," he deliberately started, his gaze refusing to meet hers. "If I'd befriended you during our first year, perhaps you wouldn't be in this situation at all."

Hermione furrowed her brows, confused when a wry smile appeared on his face. "What do you mean?" she asked.

His dark eyes finally met hers and Regulus was about to say something, but his eyes briefly glanced over her shoulders. He tightly pursed his lips, met her eyes again, and sighed, "I believe I was a little too late." Regulus ignored the confusion on her face, murmured a soft 'Congratulations', and excused himself.

She was about to call out to him, but a warm hand clutched her shoulder. Hermione glanced up and met James's hazel eyes, worry painted on his face. "All right, Whiskers?" he asked, occupying Regulus's previous seat. He reached forward and placed a hand against her abdomen. "Is the little menace reigning terror again?"

Hermione laughed and patted his hand reassuringly. "I'm fine," she replied. "I just needed to rest a bit because my feet are killing me."

James frowned and dragged his chair closer to Hermione's. Then, wordlessly, he shifted her on her seat so that her feet were now resting on his lap. Hermione rolled her eyes and tried to place her feet back on the ground, but James's grip on them were firm.

"Honestly. You're worse than Peter," she said with a sigh, although she was unable to keep her lips from tugging upward. James started to massage her ankles to relieve her of the pain. The soles of her shoes were already soiled from the dirty garden floor, but James didn't mind.

Hermione smiled at him appreciatively, reaching forward to fix his askew glasses. James matched her smile with his handsome, crooked one. "Can you believe it?" he breathlessly asked, his hazel eyes twinkled brightly. "We're actually married."

His happiness was infectious and Hermione couldn't help but to smile wider. She'd never expected to marry at such a young age. Hermione Granger was too busy running away from Voldemort with her emerald-eyed best friend to even think of such frivolous things. Even after being reborn as Hermione Pettigrew, she had been too preoccupied with her horcrux hunt and desire to defeat Voldemort once and for all. Falling in love with a wonderful man, carrying a child amidst the _war_ … all of these things had never even crossed her mind.

Her smile faltered as her gaze roamed over James's face, pinpointing all the features he didn't share with her Harry. Whilst at first glance, anyone could easily mistake him as Harry Potter, James actually had a sculpted face that spoke of Pureblood aristocracy. Harry's face was softer, without the rough and pointy edges, which he got from Lily.

Her hand rested on her swollen abdomen, the worry about a possible future she didn't wish to partake in again weighing heavily on her shoulders. She'd mentally berated herself, perhaps for the umpteenth time, for being careless enough to bring forth a new life, despite all the turmoil and terror blanketing the whole Wizarding World. This baby's father was a reckless Gryffindor. The mother, a bloody time travelling War Heroine, with every intention of defeating the Dark Lord whatever it took. That baby's life would most definitely not be an easy, peaceful one, lest the world got rid of Voldemort.

"Hermione?"

She met his eyes, the worry he was sporting a while ago now back on his face again. She shifted her feet back onto the ground. Hermione then slowly placed a hand against James's cheek, her eyes already welling with tears. "Promise me, James Potter," she whispered. "Promise me that we're going to grow old and grey together. Promise me that we'll watch our family grow. _Promise me_."

James grasped her hand on his cheek. His eyebrows were knitted together with deep concern and confusion at her impassioned plea. "Of course, Hermione," he earnestly replied, squeezing her hand reassuringly. " _Of course_."

Hermione vigorously nodded her head while haphazardly wiping her tears away. "Okay," she said as a tentative smile grew on her face.

Despite his obvious worry, James managed to crack a teasing grin. "Hermione, please," he cajoled. "People might think you're not happy you married me."

She expelled a watery chuckle. "I'm sorry. It's the pregnancy hormones," she easily lied with a small smile.

**-ooo-**

As the sun began making its slow descent, Hermione asked James if she could dance with him before the guests left. Her husband ( _'Merlin, what a surreal thing!'_ ) agreed and pulled her onto the dance floor. Despite the upbeat song, James opted to lead Hermione in a slow dance, drawing her closer to him until she could tuck her head underneath his chin.

"Have I told you yet you look beautiful today?" he whispered against her ear.

Hermione breathed out a soft laugh. "Yes," she answered. "For the umpteenth time, if you must know."

He grinned and pressed a kiss against her temple. She tightened her arm around James and expelled a soft, contented sigh.

"Mind if I cut in?"

Hermione craned her neck and saw a widely smiling Remus. "Get your own wife, Moony," James snapped with a light scowl.

The brunette snorted and tried to pull herself away from James, but he just held onto her tighter. "Learn to share, Prongsie dearest," Sirius tutted, sidling up beside Remus. The handsome Pureblood flashed a wide smile and offered her his hand. "Dance with me instead, kitten. I promise I'll be good to you."

Sirius was suddenly shoved away by a disgruntled Peter. "I get dibs first because she's my _sister_ ," he complained, ignoring James's glare when he started to tug her arm away. "Come on, 'Mione. Dance with me."

"You had her for nineteen years!" James whined. With a petulant frown, he stared down at the brunette. "Tell him you love me more, Hermione."

"That's not possible!" Peter exclaimed, successfully pulling Hermione away from James's hold. The two started a ridiculous row in the middle of the dance floor and with rolling eyes, Hermione grasped onto both Sirius's and Remus's hands.

"I'm surrounded by idiots," she said with a tired sigh.

Sirius snorted to concur, a cheeky smile now appearing on his face. A surprised laugh escaped from her lips when he pulled her into a dizzying twirl. James noticed this, ignoring Peter all together, and tried to steal Hermione away. But the brunette laughingly shied away from his arms, opting to dance with the other Marauders instead.

This went on for a few minutes, the others constantly teasing James. Even her husband ( _'Husband!'_ ) couldn't help but to join in the fun, trying ridiculous dives and means to steal Hermione back for himself.

There was a sudden flash of bright white light that startled the group. Swivelling their heads around almost at the same time, Hermione spied her mother standing not too far away from where they were, a Muggle camera clutched in her hands.

"Come on," Anya encouraged. "Stand together properly to get your pictures taken."

Hermione grinned and grabbed onto James's hand, pulling him closer to herself. She hooked her other arm around Peter to also pull him close. Sirius and Remus stood on the outside and smiled widely at the camera.

"No movements, Sirius," Anya admonished. "This is a Muggle camera after all."

"Terribly sorry, Anya," the shaggy-haired wizard quipped, slinging an arm over James's shoulders.

There was another flash of light as Anya took their photograph.

Her mother then encouraged Hermione to go around and take photographs with everybody before the guests left. Hermione indulged Anya and went around the reception area. She took pictures with a red-rimmed, watery-eyed Lily and a fondly smiling Severus, posed beside her Ravenclaw roommates, and giggled with a pregnant Alice Longbottom in front of the camera. Hermione found herself beside James once more, posing with a beaming Euphemia and a proud Fleamont. She even posed with a disguised Regulus, which made Anya suspicious again.

James snatched the camera from Anya's hands, urging her to stand beside her daughter to get their picture too. Peter joined them soon after, standing right in the middle of the two witches, draping his arm over their shoulders.

Hermione was all smiles despite her smarting cheeks. This day had been so lovely and the happiness of everyone who'd attended was terribly infectious.

When Peter and Anya rearranged themselves for another photograph, Hermione caught James's glinting hazel eyes. His cheeks were flushed in a brilliant shade of red, eyes a little wide and lips pressed into a thin line. Hermione quirked a questioning eyebrow, prompting him to huff out a laugh.

Instead of taking another picture, James pulled out his wand and pointed it against his throat. He muttered a soft ' _Sonorus_ ', magnifying his voice, and loudly cleared his throat. "Ladies and gentlemen," he started with a booming voice, "thank you for coming today but honestly, you've all overstayed your welcome already."

"James!" Hermione exclaimed in shock.

James threw her a meaningful glance, his lips stretching into a wide smile. "I' d like to spend the rest of the night with my wife – _my wife_ , Merlin and Morgana! _Alone_. So please, for the love of all good things and holy, I'd like for you all to Apparate away before I lose my mind."

Twin 'boos' from Sirius and Peter echoed from where they stood but it only managed to widen his smile more. Hermione's cheeks had reddened in embarrassment, believing that James was being plain ridiculous, and a _tad_ rude, but if she were being honest with herself, she wanted to spend the rest of the night with him alone too.

The guests approached Hermione and gave her quick hugs and kisses of goodbye. Hermione kept on apologising for James's behaviour, but they all seemed more amused than offended. James was quipping loudly for everyone to hasten, cursing the Marauders when they were trying to obviously stay. This had earned James a scolding from Euphemia, mollifying the boisterous wizard for a bit, before his mother kissed him tenderly on his cheek for her goodbye.

Once the last of the guests had gone, James met Hermione's eyes again. Under the pale moonlight, his eyes were almost dark and mischievous. Hermione's heart thudded wildly inside her chest as James started to slowly meet her in the middle of the garden, a small, _dangerous_ smirk now growing on his face.

Up close, she realised that his eyes were already dark due to his blown-up pupils. "That was very rude, James," she breathlessly whispered, eyes magnetising down his lips when he reached forward to cup her cheek.

"I think I'm allowed to behave however I want on my wedding day, Whiskers," he huskily replied, dipping his head closer to give her a soft kiss.

She braced her hands against his chest and smiled at how his heartbeat pounded against her palm. "I love you, James," she tenderly murmured as she met his eyes again.

James slipped a soft 'I love you' back and pressed his lips against hers, this time unwilling to pull away. Hermione's arms wrapped around his neck, blindly moving backward until her back was pressed against the cold wall of their new home. He started to trail kisses down her jaw and neck, nipping her pulse point that made her breath hitch.

"B-bed," she stuttered out, followed by a brief laugh. "Bed, James."

He skimmed his nose against her neck and pressed a kiss on her jaw. "I don't think I'll be able to hold on until we reach our bedroom."

"Very impatient," she teased with bright eyes. "At least _inside_ , blimey."

James pulled away and beamed widely down at her. Then, without warning, he draped an arm behind her knees and carried her in his arms. Hermione yelped in surprise, but James was kissing her again. He smiled against her lips and carried her inside.

* * *

**March 12, 1980**

A week after the Potter-Pettigrew wedding, Dumbledore sent them a letter, asking to meet with them at the Order Headquarters.

Hermione figured the Headmaster wanted to destroy another horcrux, but as she prepared for the meeting, she couldn't shake off a feeling of foreboding. James asked her if something was wrong, but she just gave him a reassuring smile. Her worry was baseless after all, and she didn't want him to worry too.

As they strode out of the Potter Foyer and greeted an overly excited Pokey, Hermione mentally calmed herself down and allowed James to lead her into the East Tower. They were the last to arrive, as the other Marauders, the Snapes, and a surprisingly un-disguised Regulus were already waiting inside.

The worry she'd tried to brush away came back once more when she met Lily's eyes. The quiet redhead was standing stiffly beside Dumbledore, incessantly worrying her bottom lip. Hermione tried to silently ask her if something was wrong, but Lily gave her a brief smile and refused to meet her gaze.

Now that she properly thought about it, Lily had been almost inconsolable during her wedding. Hermione thought it was sweet that Lily was crying her eyes out for her, but now, with Lily's strange behaviour, Hermione wondered if her tears stemmed from another reason.

"Why did Dumbledore call for a meeting?" she heard James ask the others.

"I reckon we're going to destroy another horcrux," Remus said with a casual shrug.

Hermione's eyes then landed on the Headmaster. To her surprise, he was already looking at her. "We are still waiting for a few more people," he vaguely replied. "Answers will be given afterwards."

This only made Hermione more suspicious. Destroying a horcrux always consisted of just this group. Although the current Order members already knew that all of Voldemort's horcruxes were collected, they still had no idea what they all were and how they were procured.

She tried to meet Dumbledore's eyes again, but to her utmost frustration, even the Headmaster was avoiding her gaze. Dread bloomed in her heart, wondering _why_ both Dumbledore and her best friend wore an expression that was nowhere near pleasant. Lily looked like she would burst out into tears any minute now.

"I can hear your mind thinking very loudly," her husband whispered for only her to hear.

She turned her head to meet James's amused eyes. "Something's wrong," she replied.

James furrowed his brows in worry. Before he could answer, successive knocks in a familiar rhythm brought their attention towards the door. It magically swung open and in came Moody and Kingsley, the Longbottoms not too far behind.

Hermione's mouth ran dry. Moody and Kingsley were already knowledgeable about her past and how truly important Hermione was in their persistent campaign to defeat Voldemort. The Longbottoms, however, only knew about the horcruxes and not Hermione's past. Their presence merely intensified Hermione's feeling of foreboding.

"Welcome, friends," Dumbledore amicably greeted. "Now that we are complete, I believe we can destroy another horcrux."

He dug his hand inside the pocket of his starry robe and pulled out Tom Riddle's diary wrapped in a handkerchief.

"Let me destroy it," James offered before anyone else could volunteer. Dumbledore smiled and nodded his head, wordlessly placing the horcrux on the circular table. Remus passed over the pouch containing the basilisk fangs. James strode towards the horcrux and pulled out his weapon. His brows were furrowed in deep concentration, his lips pressed into a thin line, and with one mighty thrust, the diary was destroyed.

Hermione didn't flinch when the Dark Mark-shaped smoke billowed out of the diary. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw the older Aurors weren't surprised either. Perhaps, they'd seen similar things during their stint as Aurors and nothing could shake them anymore.

"That's it?" Moody grumbled as soon as the smoke disappeared. "Why call for a bloody meeting just to watch Potter destroy a horcrux?"

The brunette firmly nodded her head and bore holes into Dumbledore's face. But the Headmaster was still serenely smiling as he pulled out a chair. "Please," he said, gesturing at the empty chairs. "Have a seat first."

Hermione wanted to scream, frustrated with his stalling. She stiffly plopped down on the chair James had pulled out for her and crossed her arms against her chest.

Lily by then had started to silently cry and judging from Sev's face, even he didn't know what this meeting was all about.

"Something's wrong," Hermione blurted out, intent on getting an answer.

She took a sharp intake of breath when both Dumbledore and Lily pierced her with their eyes. Hermione slowly furrowed her eyebrows, her initial frustration now fizzling into deep worry.

"Two months ago, I had the pleasure of meeting with Sybill Trelawney."

It was as if Hermione had stopped breathing all together. Blood rushed in her ears and her heart pounded loudly inside her chest. The dread she'd felt morphed into mighty fear, crawling into her veins until it seized her whole. She dumbly watched as Dumbledore waved his wand, several parchments flying over to each of the members. Several words were exchanged, questions were raised, but all the voices were muffled and distorted.

Nothing registered in Hermione's brain. Not even Lily's steady stream of tears, or Peter's fearful exclamation that surely, _surely_ they'd gotten it all wrong. It didn't register in Hermione's brain, even when Sirius started releasing a string of expletives, or when Frank Longbottom jumped from his seat and started to pace incessantly. She wasn't able to notice how Alice placed a hand against her own abdomen and had started to earnestly cry, or how Remus and Regulus had tried to calm Sirius down.

The parchments bearing the prophecy then burst into flames and Hermione watched with blurry eyes as the fire flickered, consuming the paper until there were mere ashes on the table.

It was only when a strong arm wrapped around her shoulders that Hermione's consciousness snapped back into focus. "It's okay, love. I've got you. I've got you."

Hermione glanced at James with wide eyes, finally realising that terrified sobs were escaping from her lips. All the antics from the other members inside the room had ended, as they stared at Hermione with wide, terrified eyes. She tightly closed her eyes and drew comfort from James, taking in deep, calming breaths until all she felt was exhaustion and dread.

"Hermione."

Her blue eyes snapped back towards a grave Dumbledore. His eyes were dull and weary, his lips pressed tightly into a thin line.

"The prophecy," the Headmaster started, his tone of voice strangely firm. "It's the same as the one you've always known, isn't it?"

"Yes," she managed to croak out. She shakily lifted her hand to brush her tears away, marginally calmed down by James's arms wrapped around her. "But I was hoping it wouldn't be spoken in this time."

"And why do you say that?" Dumbledore calmly replied.

A wry smile appeared on her face as she met Lily's eyes across from her. "Because my best friend, the beacon of all light and hope, _The-Boy-Who-Lived_ … I thought he wouldn't exist anymore," she softly revealed. She saw the confused looks on the Longbottoms' faces, as they were the only ones in the room who didn't know about Hermione's past as Hermione Granger.

"What do you mean?" the old wizard insisted.

Hermione took a deep, shuddering breath. There was no point in keeping them in the dark about her best friend, now that she was most likely carrying him in her womb, _now_ that a prophecy had been made that would undoubtedly still be about him.

"My best friend's name was Harry James Potter," she firmly declared. James's arms around her tightened in alarm, realising that she was finally telling them about this best friend of hers. "He was born on July 31 in 1980 to James Potter and Lily Evans-Potter." She smiled despite her tears at how Lily's jaw had dropped. "So naturally, I gave up hope that he'd be born at all." She saw how Sev gripped Lily's hand protectively and gave him a small smile. "Obviously, things have changed now that I'm here. Now that I'm _pregnant_ with James's child."

Tears welled in her eyes when she placed a hand on her swollen belly and met Dumbledore's eyes again. "Voldemort knows about the prophecy now, doesn't he?" she whispered.

"I believe he doesn't know yet," Dumbledore gravely continued. "But regrettably, Sybill was overheard by Lucius Malfoy during her trance, but not all of the prophecy was heard."

"It doesn't matter," Hermione dully replied. "He knows that his downfall will be born at the end of July. He'll do whatever it takes to destroy those who have the power to defeat him."

Alice choked out a sob while Frank drew a deep, shuddering breath.

"Prophecies are not predictions of the future," Lily declared with an impassioned tone. Her emerald eyes were wide with fear, but there was also a certain steeliness in them. "It's one of the fundamental laws I've learned as an Unspeakable."

Dumbledore rubbed the bridge of his crooked nose in exhaustion. "Whatever it takes," he reminded her.

"It can't be about Hermione and her baby. It _can't_!" Peter vehemently replied, despite the steady tears from his blue eyes. "She's not the only one whose due date will be at the end of July. Nor _Alice_!"

"We've defied him countless of times, Petey," Hermione softly replied. "He knows we're connected to Dumbledore. I think that's reason enough for Voldemort."

Peter shakily stared back at her, his face crumpling at her words.

"Voldemort still hasn't heard the prophecy," Regulus reassured, a pinched look on his face. "I've attended various meetings with him in the past but he has yet to speak about a prophecy."

"But he soon will hear about it," Moody gravely supplemented. His steely blue eyes landed on Hermione, but she couldn't decipher what he was feeling right now. "By then, their lives will be in grave danger."

James's hold on her suddenly tightened.

"They must be kept safe," Kingsley offered. "If the prophecy still comes to pass, Voldemort's supposed equal must be protected. The child must be protected if he's the hero the prophecy speaks about. The child must be protected if we want to defeat that evil bastard once and for all."

The breath was knocked out of Hermione at Kingsley's claim. Images of her Harry, grieving and terrified and so, _so_ tired swam back into her vision. Her hand slowly crept to her stomach as ire flared in her heart. "We will not subject my child to the same fate as my best friend!" she strongly replied. "I _forbid_ it!"

"Hermione—"

Tears swam in her eyes once more, but her gaze on Dumbledore was resolute. "I've spent my entire life fighting alongside Harry," she continued. "I saw how the _bloody fucking war_ broke him. And no, no, _no_ my baby will not be placed in the same situation." Her face crumpled as huge sobs racked from her body. "Please."

James's chair screeched loudly as he pulled himself closer to Hermione just so he could gather her in his arms. "We're leaving," he declared, his tone of voice leaving no room for any protest. No one moved when he pulled her back onto her feet and led her out of the Order Headquarters.

**-ooo-**

Hermione had marginally calmed down once they'd Floo-ed back to their house in Godric's Hollow. James was already in their kitchen, fixing her a steaming cup of tea and Hermione was left to contemplate what had just transpired.

Her cheeks reddened, ashamed at her behaviour a while ago. All of her rationality had flown out of the window when she'd heard of the prophecy—the _exact_ prophecy—that had haunted Harry all throughout his life. Admittedly, when she'd found out she was pregnant, she'd thought of this possibility too. It didn't mean it lessened the blow when it was actually realised.

More errant tears escaped from her eyes and she brushed them away.

"Bottoms up, Whiskers," James said, arriving back with her tea. Hermione murmured her thanks and took a few sips. The peculiar taste of Calming Draught coated her tongue and when she threw an accusatory glare at James, her husband didn't show any regret. "You needed it."

"You still should have told me," she said with a sigh, her mind already clearing from the effects of the potion. The fear receded, hiding in the deepest recesses of her heart, until there was a pleasant, serene calm settling over her.

She closed her eyes, allowing a few more tears to slip past her eyes, before leaning against their couch. James occupied the seat beside Hermione, shifting her until her feet were resting on his lap.

For a few moments, neither of them spoke. James quietly massaged her swollen ankles and Hermione took that time to gaze around their homely cottage. Although definitely smaller than the Potter Manor, their house was filled with expensive pieces of furniture worthy of a Pureblood heir. Their first week as a married couple had been spent filling the house with various trinkets and memories, making sure that love was imbibed in every corner, ready for when their baby arrived.

Her eyes skimmed the wall opposite where they sat, different Muggle and Magic photographs alike of family and friends, displayed for everyone to admire.

She was observing the photographs from their wedding day when James finally decided to break the silence.

"So… Evans was the mother," he deliberately started.

She tore her gaze away from the photographs and glanced at her husband. Despite how near she was to him, she could not decipher what he truly felt at that moment. "Yes," she slowly replied, shifting her feet out from his lap and back onto the floor. "Small world, isn't it?"

He didn't look amused by her poor attempt to lighten the situation. Instead, James removed his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose, a disgruntled expression now on his face. "I mean— _holy shite_ ," he breathed out. He tightly closed his eyes and continued to mercilessly rub the bridge of his nose.

"James…"

She swallowed her words when his eyes cracked open, a myriad of emotions swirling in the brown and green. "Well, at least that explains why you were so adamant to get Evans and I together," he shakily pointed out, a wry grin now stretching on his face. "Why you were so adamant I will leave you in the end."

"Harry was… _my_ Harry— He—" Hermione grabbed onto her tea and took a few sips, allowing the Calming Draught to clear her muddled brain. "When I was Hermione Granger, everything I did was for _him_. I think I should be forgiven for having a hard time of letting go of my emerald-eyed, messy-haired best friend."

James's face crumpled. "I-I'm sorry," he stuttered.

"We've talked about this before, James," she pointed out. "You know that I've already let go of that version of him. I don't even understand why you're apologising!"

He let his hand fall back down on his lap, terrible guilt in his eyes. "Do you regret this, Hermione?" he asked. "All of this. Our baby… _me_?"

A sound of protest escaped from Hermione's lips. "How can you even ask me that?" she cried. "I love you. I love you _so much_ , James."

"But this Harry—"

"I love you," she repeated, this time softer, _clearer_ , as she reached forward and cradled his jaw against her palm. "I don't regret any of this. Letting him go was truly hard, but Harry wanted me to live a happy life and you and I both know I'll only achieve that if I stayed by your side."

James placed a hand on top of hers. "But now… the _prophecy_ ," he breathlessly whispered. His hazel eyes clouded with fear and reached for her swollen belly. "Our baby…"

"I was fervently hoping it won't be uttered this time," she murmured.

James tiredly closed his eyes and leaned against Hermione's touch. He looked older than nineteen and it pained Hermione's heart. They were still so young, barely out of Hogwarts, but now… _now_ , there was a bloody prophecy about their unborn child.

"I was dead, wasn't I?"

Hermione took a sharp intake of breath at James's startling question. "What makes you say that?" she croaked, drawing her hand back to her chest.

A small, sad smile appeared on James's face. "I deduced it, based on your words a while ago," he said. "When you talk about your best friend… my _son_ , blimey, you always sound like he's been through a lot of hardships. I-if I were alive in the future, I would have at least stayed by his side and made his life _better_."

He slowly met Hermione's gaze, his eyes filled with unshed tears. "And _you_ are from the future, Hermione," he added. "I've seen how you look at Sirius, Remus and Peter, like there was recognition in your eyes. I guessed you'd met their older counterparts. But when you look at me—" A tear slipped down his cheek. "You look at me with such sad eyes. I've always thought I might not have survived this war. You were the least comfortable with me before, you know."

James huffed out a hollow laugh. "Besides, if what Dumbledore said was true, that Voldemort would do whatever it took to destroy anyone who would hinder him from reaching his goals, I'm sure I—even _Evans_ —would have protected our son even if it meant we were going to give up our lives."

"No one will die," she firmly declared. "Not you. Not Lily. Not even _me_."

She tightly closed her eyes and took a deep shuddering breath. "If… if it means I have to brew a thousand more potions and be reborn a thousand times more just so Harry Potter grows up to be well-loved and safe, then I'll gladly do it. If it means you or Lily or anyone who has sacrificed themselves just to make this world a better place will live until you are all old and grey, I'll gladly do it."

Her eyes fluttered open as she smiled tenderly at James. "If it means you'll be happy, that everyone I've grown to love in this world and my past will be happy, _I'll gladly do it_. Over and over and over again."

James snorted despite his tears. He pulled Hermione closer to rest his forehead against hers. "I won't let you make that sacrifice, Hermione," he whispered, his warm breath soothing her wet cheeks. He placed a brief kiss on her forehead and slightly pulled away. "Despite everything that is happening right now, I am _happy_. With you. With our unborn child."

He tenderly rubbed his thumb against her cheek. "I can't imagine a life without you in it, Hermione," he said. "So, no. _No_ brewing a thousand potions. _No_ being reborn a thousand times more. I'd rather you stay beside me, fight alongside me, and I will make sure that no one else dies."

"The future is uncertain, James," she whispered. "Even though I tried to interfere to change the future, _nothing_ changed. There's still a prophecy about Voldemort's downfall."

"Then we will just fight extra hard, yeah?" he asked, cracking that lopsided smile she'd fallen in love with.

Hermione smiled and pressed a soft kiss against his lips. "We will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmao the chapters are getting heavier and I'm getting a headache ahahahaha.
> 
> See you tomorrow!
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes)


	51. chapter fifty

* * *

**xxxxx.**

**the world is brighter than the sun now that you are here**

(Light by Sleeping at Last)

* * *

**July 31, 1980**

"James, please, just sit down."

He rapidly blinked and stared at his mother with wide eyes, before allowing Sirius to yank him down the couch. He warily gazed at the crowd crammed inside his living room, all quite preoccupied with what was happening in their bedroom. Even Sirius's comforting pats on his back didn't help nor Remus's bar of chocolate to keep his sanity intact. Peter seemed just as bad as James was, nervously wringing his hands in trepidation while Anya tried her very best to calm her first born.

Lily was as pale as the moonlight, looking like she'd pass out soon, and if it weren't for Sev's strong hold on her, James didn't doubt she'd be a heaped mess on the floor. Regulus Black, the strangest visitor in his home, had a blank look on his face but James knew from the way he held himself ramrod straight and with tense shoulders that the Black heir was every bit as worried as everybody else in this room for Hermione.

_Hermione_.

The thought of his wife once more made his breath hitch. Try as he might, even when he strained his ears, he couldn't hear any sound from their bedroom. Mary had strictly barred them from coming inside while she assisted his heir's birth, erecting various Silencing Charms to ease their worries. The Healer earnestly promised she'd remove the spell as soon as the craziness of it all had finally ended. But the thing was, James wanted to hear _something,_ Hermione's exclamations of pain—even expletives, honestly—just so he knew that everything was all right.

His nervousness was too palpable for him to sit still. He shrugged off Sirius's tight hold on his arm and shot back onto his feet, starting his pacing again. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw how Euphemia wanted to tell him off but Fleamont had placed a hand on her arm, a small smile on his face.

"What's taking so bloody long?" Peter whined. "Hermione's been in labour for three hours already!"

James thickly swallowed, numerous worst-case scenarios swirling in his mind. Pregnancy still flummoxed him deeply; he'd tried to read a few pregnancy books just so he could understand what Hermione was going through. He even invited the blokes to pour over one particular, ridiculous book, but they'd ended up too flabbergasted at the mechanics of labour and had ended up throwing the horrifying book away. Hermione had constantly assured him that although this pregnancy made a great many weird changes in her body, her anatomy was designed to handle such a stressful event.

He reverently went with Hermione during her check-ups at St. Mungo's. He shamelessly burst into tears when the Healer conjured an image over Hermione's abdomen, showing their little boy floating inside Hermione's uterus. He'd asked incessant questions, about the possible risks of her pregnancy, and although the Healer constantly reassured him that Hermione and the baby were healthy, James still couldn't stop himself from worrying.

And now… _now holy shite_. When Hermione announced earlier that day she was experiencing strong, regular contractions, James went into blind, sheer panic. They'd both agreed Hermione would give birth at home, and so, James had made a series of firecalls, even blasted his Patronuses just to gather everybody important in their lives together and support him while he waited for their baby's birth.

"I need to get away from here," he finally declared, steeling himself to a firm halt. He wasn't sure how he looked right now, but he could hazard from the deep concern on the others' faces that he looked like shite. "If I stay here a minute more without a _bloody fucking clue_ as to what is happening to my wife, I'm going to lose my mind."

"We'll send you a Patronus, mate," Sirius reassured.

James stiffly nodded his head and tore through the huge expanse of their living room. He wanted to get out as fast as he could just to calm his nerves, but when a loud cry of a newborn reverberated off the walls of his house, he faltered.

"Was that—"

The crying was wild and incessant and without much thinking, James was scrambling upstairs. He was out-of-breath when he skidded in front of their bedroom. But before he could yank the door open, it opened itself. Mary slipped out and closed the door behind her. James paled at the blood stains on her lime green robes, which wasn't left unnoticed by the Healer.

"Sorry," she whispered, removing any stains on her robes with a swish of her wand. Behind James, the others had already clambered up, excitedly waiting for the news.

"Well?" James impatiently asked.

Happy tears suddenly welled in Mary's eyes as she broke into a huge grin. "Oh, oh, congratulations, James!" she gushed out. "He's lovely and… and he got your chin and nose but his eyes…" A few tears slipped down her cheeks, her beam widening. "He has his mother's eyes."

"And Hermione?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"Oh, Hermione's fine," she reassured, haphazardly wiping her tears away. "She was so _strong_ and very brave too! She's a little tired but… but _oh_ , why am I keeping you all from going inside?"

James didn't waste a moment and tried to dart past the Healer, but Mary suddenly placed a hand on his arm to stop him. "Hold on," she said. "Give me a few seconds. Labour is a bloody business and I don't want anyone of you to faint from the sight of its aftermath."

She disappeared inside and James heard a litany of spells. Just when he'd almost cracked from impatience, Mary pushed the door wider and ushered them inside. "Come on. Come in!"

His eyes immediately landed on Hermione. His wife was propped against the headboard of their bed, marvellously tired judging from the beads of sweat on her forehead and her pale skin. Hermione's blue eyes met his as soon as he stepped inside. Her eyes were glistening with tears and despite how exhausted she looked, the smile on her face was wide and blinding.

"Hi," he croaked out.

A tear slid down from Hermione's eyes. "Hi," she whispered in return. She then shifted her arms and that was when James noticed the small bundle hugged against her chest. She met his eyes once more and added, "Meet your son, love."

He was beside her instantly, bending down so that he could peer at the babe in her arms. The baby was impossibly wrinkly and red, with a few tufts of black, messy hair peeking out of the white blanket wrapped around him.

"He's so… he's so small," he softly said. He lifted a finger and brushed it against the baby's cheek. This prompted his eyes to slowly open and James huffed out a laugh, tears also welling in his eyes. He beamed brightly at Hermione and added, "He has your eyes."

"Do you want to hold him?" she asked.

His face turned splotchy red. "I-I don't know how to hold a baby," he confessed.

"It'll be all right," she reassured. "Just make sure to support his head and try not to jostle him too much. It has been a tiring day for him too."

James immediately cradled his arms against his chest as Hermione transferred their baby into his arms. His arms stuck out at an odd angle, unwilling to move to a more comfortable position in fear of letting him go.

"You're doing great," Hermione said, lifting her hand to brush the wisps of dark hair from the baby's forehead.

The bespectacled wizard stared down at the baby's wide, blue eyes, disbelieving that a few minutes ago, he was inside Hermione's womb. "Hi," he breathed out, grinning widely when a tiny yawn broke out from his mouth.

"Let me hold the baby too!" Peter exclaimed, rushing forward to steal him away from James's arms. Before James could protest, Peter was now cooing loudly at the baby while Mary stood beside him, unabashedly crying over the wide-eyed baby.

He was then passed onto both Sirius and Remus, the former pulling various funny faces while the werewolf awkwardly held the baby against his chest, a disbelieving smile on his scarred face. Regulus looked comically amused and flummoxed at the infant in Remus's arms. He was then passed to Anya, who also had tears in her eyes as she shifted the babe in her arms. Hermione's mother carried the baby effortlessly, cooing soft, loving words to the blue-eyed infant while letting him grasp her finger with his whole hand. James's parents also admired their grandson, Fleamont laughingly pointing out that the infamous Potter hair had not disappointed once more. The baby was lastly passed onto Lily and her husband. It was laughable how the couple chose to spend their first wedding anniversary with them, but Hermione's labour was just as important as their wedding. Of course they'd choose their best friend in a heartbeat.

Lily's emerald eyes were twinkling brightly with happiness and tears, and from where James stood, he could see the fondness in Severus Snape's eyes, no doubt imagining a future where the baby Lily was holding was their own.

"What are you going to name him?" Lily asked, glancing at the couple with a small smile on her face.

"Harry," Hermione blurted out before James could give a suggestion. "Harry James Potter."

The bespectacled wizard thickly swallowed and looked down at Hermione. "Are you sure?" he asked.

More tears tumbled down from Hermione's eyes, but there was complete sureness in them. "I knew the moment I found out I was pregnant that it was him," she softly confessed. "It's… I don't know how to explain it. But… but it's _him_. It's Harry. I felt it in my heart."

James tore his gaze away from Hermione when Lily placed the babe back in his arms. He briefly met Lily's eyes and smiled his thanks. It was still weird for him that in Hermione's future, he was not only dead but married to _Lily Evans_. Admittedly, there was one time when he'd dreamt about marrying the fiery redhead. Now, the idea of being married to her felt as preposterous as Hermione's past.

His attention was brought back to his son when he started to release loud wails once more. James's eyes widened in panic, glancing at Hermione who merely laughed. Wordlessly, she grabbed Harry back and cradled him against her chest.

"Hi, Harry," Hermione whispered, shushing his tears until he was silent and slowly slipping back into sleep. "Welcome back."

**-ooo-**

Later that night, as the visitors bid their goodbye, James found himself at a loss of what to do.

Euphemia had given him a crash-course in changing nappies, burping the baby after being breastfed, giving the baby a bath, and other basic necessities to take care of a newborn baby. Anya had supplemented some helpful tips, cheekily pointing out that she'd raised two, rowdy children mostly on her own and she didn't doubt that her grandson would also be a handful.

But despite their helpful pieces of advice, James felt overwhelmed. What if he was a terrible father? What if he accidentally hurt Harry? What if he did something wrong and— _Merlin forbid_ —Hermione finally decided she didn't want him around their son?

Everything was bloody new to him. He never thought in his whole life he'd be a father at twenty, vowing to become a well-established Auror first before even thinking about having a family. Despite all the pregnancy books he'd reverently read before Harry's birth, James still felt marvellously useless.

"What are you doing just standing there?" Hermione's amused voice carried through their bedroom, snapping James out of his inner breakdown.

He sheepishly met his wife's twinkling eyes. "Err… Do you need anything?" he hastily asked. "Do you need help with Harry? Does he need a change his nappy? How about burping? Did he burp yet? Or—"

He swallowed down his words when Hermione burst into soft chuckles. His face turned red as his eyes narrowed into a light glare. "Come closer, James," she beckoned, her smile unfaltering.

James sighed and slowly approached Hermione. Nestled against her chest was a sleeping Harry, with one of his fists clutched tightly around Hermione's curls.

He found himself dumbfounded for the umpteenth time that day, wondering how in Merlin's name he'd been able to make someone so tiny and breathing and _real_. His heart swelled with silly, sappy feelings, finding it ridiculous how he could already feel so many things when he'd only just met Harry today.

But looking at his sleeping son already evoked these lovely emotions that he'd never felt before. True, there was still the fear of fucking up, but Harry's face soothed whatever worry he had.

"I still can't believe he grew inside you," he blurted out, wide-eyed as he glanced back at Hermione. "It's almost like… almost like—"

"—magic?" she cheekily offered.

James snorted and plopped down on the bed beside her. "Yeah, something like that." Hermione grinned at him and went back to look at their baby. The corners of his lips twitched into a small smile, noting that Hermione's gaze also held the same sappy feelings that were currently residing in his heart. "How are you, Whiskers?"

"A bit sore," she admitted, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Mary left me a lot of Pain Potion to ease the pain, but it wears off easily."

"Do you need more?" he hurriedly asked, worry in his voice.

She lightly shook her head. "I'm fine," she reassured. "I think I just need to rest for a bit."

"Go to sleep," he instantly said. A wry smile appeared on his face, remembering all the tips his parents and Anya had told him prior to their departure. "One thing Mum told me was to sleep as much as we could because Harry will keep us awake most of the time."

As if on cue, Harry stirred in Hermione's arms and released a few whimpers. His tiny mouth stretched open as he emitted loud wails that rang in James's ear.

"Does he need a change of nappy?" he asked again, a tad panicky. "Burping? Is he uncomfortable? Does he—"

Hermione placed a comforting hand on his arm to stop his panicked tirade. "He's just hungry, love," she said.

"How'd you know that?" James asked with wide eyes.

The brunette merely shrugged and tugged her sleeve down past her shoulder until she'd exposed one of her nipples. She gently nudged his small mouth towards her nipple and soon enough, Harry's cries had quietened, softly suckling milk from his mother.

"See," she said, an amused glint in her eyes when she noticed James's heightened surprise.

"I feel so useless," James groaned. "Why are you so good at this, Hermione? And Harry was only born hours ago!"

Hermione snorted, shifting the babe in her arms to find a more comfortable position. Comically, she placed a hand against Harry's ear and glanced at her husband with wide eyes. "I'm scared _shiteless_ , James," she confessed. She chuckled and brushed some wisps of hair from Harry's forehead. "I'm scared that I'm going to botch all this motherhood thing up. I devoured as many pregnancy books as I could prior to Harry's birth but I still feel like I'm going to do something wrong."

"Doesn't seem like that to me," James grumbled.

She fondly smiled at him. "I'm just letting my instincts take over," she continued. "I knew Harry was hungry because he kept on putting his fist inside his mouth. He'd already done it twice today and breastfeeding him always did the trick."

Her eyes were soft as she gazed at Harry and James felt the silly, sappy feelings in his heart increasing tenfold. He felt like his heart was swelling too much with overwhelming emotions and he was afraid it would just burst out of his chest.

Hermione caught his hazel eyes, prompting her smile to slightly falter. "What?" she asked.

"You're very pretty. Do you know that?" he whispered, ducking his head closer to peer at her face above the rim of his glasses.

Her cheeks turned a lovely shade of red. "I'm feeling anything _but_ ," she sighed. "My lower back is killing me. My breasts are in pain. I'm so _tired_. So, I don't really understand how you can say that."

"You are," he insisted. Hermione had this certain glow today, and despite the dim lights in their bedroom, she was as bright as the sun on a clear, blue day. James reached forward a tucked an errant curl behind her ear, a huge smile now blossoming on his face. "Very, _very_ pretty."

Hermione gave him a shy smile in return, prompting him to duck more closely to press a soft kiss against her lips.

Harry by then, had unlatched from her breast and was once again sleeping quietly. Hermione tugged her sleeve up until she covered her breast. "Can you pull the bassinet closer?" she asked.

James wordlessly nodded and did as he was told. Hermione shifted on the bed to properly place her slumbering baby inside the bassinet. The new parents held their breath for a few seconds, afraid that Harry would start crying again. But when the baby continued to sleep, they expelled a sigh of relief and grinned at each other.

"You should get some sleep," James urged. "I'll try to watch over Harry for a few more hours before I sleep myself."

Hermione nodded and laid back on the bed. James tugged the duvet up to her chin and placed a kiss on her forehead.

"James?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry I didn't give you a Stella."

James sputtered out a laugh and glanced down at his wife. "Hermione, Harry's _perfect_ ," he breathlessly exclaimed, bringing out a small smile from Hermione. "There's still plenty of time to make a Stella in the future."

Her eyes glistened, her smile turning sad. For a moment, fear gripped his heart, remembering what his fate was when his wife was Lily Evans and Hermione was still a Granger. But the fear was easily shaken away when his hazel eyes swept over Harry, and then over Hermione. If he had to fight tooth and nail to continue living just so he could give a better future to his son, then so be it.

"There's still plenty of time," he firmly repeated. He pressed a kiss against Hermione's lips to remove that sad smile from her face. "I will make sure of it."

* * *

**August 3, 1980**

He was the last one to arrive, spying his friends casually leaning against the wall of the castle, waiting for him. "I'm so sorry," he sighed, tiredly rubbing his eyes once he'd reached them.

"Blimey, Prongs, you look like _shite_ ," Sirius quipped, his silver eyes twinkling with amusement.

The bespectacled wizard scowled and lightly shoved his shoulder. "Thanks, Sirius," he grumbled, glaring at his snickering best friend. A huge yawn tore away from his mouth, followed by a long-suffering sigh. "I'm so bloody tired." He closed his eyes and blindly wrapped his arm around an amused Remus. "Carry me to Dumbledore's Office, Moony?"

The werewolf snorted and shrugged James off his shoulders. "When was the last time you slept?" he asked.

"I don't know," James truthfully answered. "I _swear_ I just closed my eyes for a few seconds, but then Harry's cries disturbed my sleep. The cycle just bloody continues. Who knew fatherhood was as bad as Auror training?"

"Hermione's well, though?" Peter worriedly asked.

Despite his exhaustion, James managed to crack a small smile. "She's better," he reassured. "She's at the Potter Manor right now with my parents and Anya. I know she wants to be with us today to destroy another horcrux, but I think she's still reluctant to leave Harry behind."

"And you? How are you?"

He glanced at Peter, surprise evident in his eyes. "Besides being tired to the bone, I've never been better, Wormy," he said, a teasing grin blooming on his face. "Good to know that you're worried about me too, dearest brother-in-law."

Peter, however, looked grim and unamused. " _Honestly_ , James," he softly urged. "You know, with the prophecy and all…"

His smile faltered and the fear he'd pushed aside for the past few days resurfaced back once more. With Harry's birth, James had a decent excuse not to let his mind wander away. He focused all of his attention on taking care of Hermione and Harry, so he didn't really have any time to properly process anything outside their home.

"Way to ruin the mood, Peter," he snarled with a frown.

Peter sighed. "James," he firmly said. "It's fine. I feel the same way too."

The bespectacled wizard thickly swallowed and refused to meet his best friends' worried gazes. He hadn't told them yet that in Hermione's previous life, he was dead at twenty-one years old. But somehow, a part of him knew that they'd already suspected that, especially with how Hermione had reacted when Dumbledore revealed the prophecy.

"I'm fine," he firmly lied.

"No, you're not," Sirius bluntly pointed out. "Like I said, you look like _shite_ , James. I doubt it's only because of newly entered fatherhood."

James took a long-suffering sigh and warily glared at his best friends. " _Please_ , can we just drop this today?" he begged. "I'm tired as hell and I just want to go back home to my family."

Blessedly, Remus wordlessly grabbed his arm and led the whole group towards Dumbledore's Office. Their journey had grown silent, all of them too preoccupied by a possible future they wanted to avoid as much as possible.

It didn't take long for them to arrive at Dumbledore's Office. James was surprised that he and his friends were the only ones present. The Snapes, and sometimes Regulus, made it a point to be present during the destruction of a horcrux. Perhaps, they too were swamped with other things.

"I trust Hermione and Harry are well," was Dumbledore's greeting. Mind still muddled with the conversation he'd had with his friends, James merely nodded his head. The Headmaster's smile faltered at the tense silence amongst them, but thankfully didn't probe.

The older wizard opened his drawer and pulled out a familiar box. He waved his wand in continuous complicated patterns, until the box clicked open, revealing Salazar Slytherin's locket. From beside him, he heard Peter's breath hitch, no doubt also remembering that fateful night in his bedroom back at the Potter Manor.

"Any volunteers?"

"I'll do it," Sirius firmly claimed, marching a few steps forward. James smiled sadly at the shaggy-haired wizard, having already predicting that Sirius would be the one to volunteer to destroy this horcrux.

Remus wordlessly gave him the pouch containing the basilisk fangs.

Sirius's grey eyes glinted menacingly, like a vicious storm over troubled seas. He dug his hand inside the pouch and pulled out a fang. By the time he was in front of the ominous locket, Sirius was breathing heavily. "This is for my brother, you bastard," he loudly proclaimed. With a mighty thrust, he pierced the venom-laced fang through the locket. It broke in the middle and the familiar Dark Mark-shaped smoke billowed out. James still found himself terribly disturbed at the sight, unconsciously taking a few steps back when a piercing cry filled Dumbledore's office.

As soon as the smoke and scream disappeared, Sirius shoved back the fang inside the pouch and harshly swiped a hand against his face. Sirius stiffly walked back to his friends, none of them pointing out the tears in his eyes. James, however, reached toward to grip his arm in comfort, knowing full well it was something his best friend would have needed.

"Well then," Dumbledore said with a small smile. "Only one more to go."

His declaration brought out small smiles on the Marauders' faces. Dumbledore then dismissed them, wishing them a lovely day as they strode out of his office.

"Fancy a drink at the Leaky?" Sirius suggested, now marginally calmer after the destruction of the horcrux.

"Can't," Peter hastily said. "I'm having lunch with Mary."

"I can't either," James said with a sigh. "I don't think I'll even be able to take a sip, judging from how knackered I feel."

Sirius turned his pleading eyes towards Remus, who snorted and shook his head. "I have to finish some reports for the Order," he excused. " _And_ , draft a letter for the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor for the next school-year."

"Already?" James asked with wide eyes.

Remus sheepishly smiled and shrugged. "Dumbledore reckoned it would be the right time to appoint me," he explained.

"The position's still bloody cursed," Sirius insisted. "You won't last more than a year, Moony."

"I know that," the werewolf answered with a sigh. "But with the horcruxes almost destroyed… I think it's time to start planning for my own future."

"Voldemort isn't dead yet," Peter pointed out, his expression grim.

"He will be," James vehemently declared. "He will _soon_ be. I'm sure of it."

The sandy-haired wizard gave him a small, empty smile, his expression already speaking volumes of how much he feared for a future that was still so bloody uncertain.

James thickly swallowed and tried to desperately change the subject. "Hermione and I have already decided on who is going to be Harry's godparent," he blurted out.

"Yeah?" Sirius asked, a huge smile breaking on his face.

The bespectacled wizard gave his excited best friend an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Pads," he hurriedly whispered.

The smile on Sirius's face fell, but there was silent resignation in his grey eyes. "I knew I wouldn't be picked, to be honest," he confessed with a chuckle. "It doesn't matter just as long as you promise to make me the godfather of your _next_ child, Prongsie mate, then we're all good."

"Who'd you pick then?" Remus curiously asked.

"Surely not Lily, though," Sirius quipped, a frown now marring his face. "I'm going to go ballistic if you picked Lily. I'm going to lose fifty galleons!"

The bespectacled wizard snorted. "You're _betting_ with Evans who we'd picked as Harry's godparent?" he asked incredulously.

Sirius sheepishly smiled and shrugged. "Yeah, well, she was adamant Hermione would pick her as godmother," he pointed out. "And I was adamant you'd pick me as Harry's godfather. Of course we're going to bet on who you'd pick."

" _No_ , we didn't pick Lily either," James said, followed by an amused laugh.

"Well, who'd you pick then?" the werewolf repeated.

James's hazel eyes landed on an equally curious Peter. Realising what James's look meant, the shorter wizard's blue eyes widened in shock. " _Me_?" he gasped in surprise.

James grinned, fully expecting Peter's reaction. "I mean, why not?" he asked with a laugh. "Hermione loves you very much, Peter. And you're my best friend. We both agreed that Harry should have a godfather that would love him endlessly too."

Tears welled in Peter's blue eyes, eyes he shared with his wife and his son. "I'll be honoured," he whispered, shamelessly letting his tears drip down from his eyes.

"Merlin, Wormy, I knew you'd be weepy about this." James burst into boisterous laughter when Peter lightly glared at him. He threw his arms around Peter and grinned. "Hermione and I were both sure you'd take care of him if ever something happened to us."

The amused expressions on the Marauders' faces disappeared, replaced with identical frowns that made his eyes soften in gratitude.

" _Nothing's_ going to happen to either you or Hermione," Peter vehemently claimed, his eyes growing resolute. "I'm going to make sure of it. That slimy, evil bastard has to go through me first."

"And me," Remus firmly added.

"And me," Sirius viciously quipped.

Embarrassingly, James felt his eyes misting at their proclamations. "Come here, you wankers," he boisterously claimed, trying to encircle the other two with his arms just to hide his forming tears.

* * *

**August 10, 1980**

Hermione blinked her wide eyes at the lovely foyer. Although nothing trumped the humongous Potter Foyer, this one was a close second. Her eyes swept over the spacious room at Longbottom Manor, spying various potted plants lining the window sills – Magic and Muggle alike. Hermione would have loved to peruse around more, but a sudden pop tore her gaze away from the room.

Harry stirred in her arms, disturbed by the sound, and Hermione quickly shushed him quiet until the baby was sleeping once more.

"Welcome, Miss," a house-elf, smaller than Pokey, greeted with a small smile on his wrinkly face. He was dressed in a simple shirt and trousers, which looked loose on his thin frame. Nevertheless, this house-elf looked well-groomed; it was undoubted that the Longbottoms also treated their house-elves properly. "Miss must follow Blinky."

She silently nodded her head and shifted Harry into a more comfortable position in her arms. Hermione then trailed behind the small house-elf, her blue eyes roaming around Longbottom Manor as they passed through various corridors. The Manor was smaller than the Potter's, but everything still screamed Pureblood aristocracy. They were, after all, part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.

Hermione was able to peek through one of the doors, eyes widening upon recognising numerous books slotted into huge bookshelves. The library looked lovely, even after a small peek, and Hermione made a mental note of requesting permission to drop by to hang out in the library.

Blinky finally brought her inside a Drawing Room of sorts. Two long couches, one grey and the other dusty rose, were placed in front of a roaring fire. The walls were painted in a handsome pink and there was a glinting lamp hanging overhead. Like the foyer, there were potted plants decorating the room.

"Hello, Hermione."

Her eyes snapped towards the person inside the room, seated on the grey couch. Alice gave her a dimply smile, but Hermione's eyes immediately strayed towards the small bundle in her arms. Her breath almost knocked out of her chest, recognising the tufts of blonde hair and the familiar brown eyes of Neville Longbottom.

"Please. Have a seat," Alice said, her smile growing wider in amusement at Hermione's gawking.

The brunette's cheeks coloured and she immediately sauntered towards the opposite couch. She felt stupidly tongue-tied, eyes once again settling on the blonde babe in Alice's arms. Memories of Neville Longbottom flashed before her mind's eye, until all that was there was his lifeless eyes staring back at her after failing to kill Nagini in the Battle of Hogwarts.

"Are you all right?" Alice's worried voice cut through her tumultuous memories.

Hermione blinked back her tears. "Y-yes," she stuttered, taking a few deep breaths to calm herself. "Um… so, why did you ask me to come here today?"

Alice's smile grew bright. "Well, can't I invite over the enigmatic Hermione Potter?" she cheekily asked, followed by a lovely laugh that warmed Hermione's heart. Neville definitely got his smile and warmth from his mother. "I have been curious about you ever since our last horcrux hunt. And, _well_ , now that we both have sons of our own, I think it'd be brilliant if we bond over our ridiculous attempts at being first-time mothers."

In spite of herself, Hermione snorted out a laugh. "This one has been a menace so far," she said, lifting the sleeping Harry slightly. The boy stirred in her arms and cracked his eyes open briefly, before dozing off against his mother's chest once more. "I think James is already losing his mind from the lack of sleep we're getting."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," the older witch said with an apologetic smile. "Neville's been a real angel. Frank's mother had already listed down a lot of instructions on how to properly take care of a child – I mean, _she_ still doesn't trust me with Neville – but so far, Neville has been really sweet and quiet."

Hermione sighed, deeply envious. "I always knew Harry would be a menace," she said, fondly glancing down at the peaceful face of her son. "I still love him to the moon and back even though he refuses to give us a good night's sleep."

As if sensing he was being talked about, Harry cracked his eyes open again and blinked his bright, blue eyes at his mother. Hermione softly smiled and ran a finger along his cheek. Harry stirred and grasped onto her finger with his whole hand, unwilling to let go.

Blinky soon popped back into the Drawing Room, this time with a tray bearing a teapot, cups and scones. Hermione helped herself to some tea, and continued to converse with Alice about all things under the sun. They reminisced about Hogwarts, talked about Auror and Order work, and laughed themselves silly over the ridiculous things their husbands had done. It felt like they were proper friends and Hermione was glad she had someone she could converse with about her fears and anticipation at being a first-time mother.

Alice was terribly sweet, and Hermione sometimes fancied herself into thinking she was back at one of the greenhouses in Hogwarts, raptly listening to one of Neville's excited tirades about the wonderful properties of different plants he'd started to take care of.

The older witch was recounting her recent adventure with a _Mimbulus mimbletonia_ when she suddenly paused. Her brown eyes clouded with worry. "Hermione?" she called. "What's wrong?"

"What?" the brunette echoed, expelling a soft chuckle. "Nothing's wrong."

"You're—" Instead of continuing her words, Alice touched her cheek. Hermione, curious, mirrored her action and was surprised to discover it was wet with her tears.

"Oh," she breathed out, haphazardly wiping away the tears she didn't know had slipped down from her eyes. "Oh. Sorry. I've been a little emotional ever since I got pregnant with Harry. I think my pregnancy hormones still have not gone back to normal."

Alice didn't look convinced by her excuse. Instead, she leant against the couch, her face hardening into a gaunt, worried expression. "Is it because—" She left her words dangling as she took a deep, shuddering breath. When she released a puff of air, a few tears also escaped from her eyes. "The prophecy… my Neville. Will he—"

Hermione's heart clenched in pain, realising this was the real reason Alice had wanted to meet with her today. Admittedly, she had thought this was a possible reason, but Hermione had pushed that thought aside, not wanting to overthink. After all, she didn't know what she'd do if Alice started asking difficult questions. _Now_ , however, no matter how desperate she was to change the topic, the expression on the older witch's face already told her she'd persist until she had the answer to her question.

"You're not from here, are you?"

The brunette thickly swallowed a lump in her throat and blinked back her tears once more. "What made you think that?" she croaked, clearing her throat when her voice cracked.

Alice gave her a pointed glance, the smile on her face almost bemused. "Educated guess," she replied with a half-hearted shrug. "That day, when Dumbledore revealed the prophecy… _well_ , you sounded like you knew everything about it from a _different_ time. I just pieced everything together—" She blinked back her tears again and clammed her lips shut.

"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered.

The older witch looked at her in surprise. "For what?" she asked.

"I don't know. I… well… I should have worked harder to prevent the prophecy from being uttered at all," she explained. When Alice's surprise increased, a wry smile appeared on Hermione's face. "I'm… not from here, like what you've concluded. I came from the future, so I knew how everything would have ended if I didn't intervene." She jutted her chin towards the sleeping boy in Alice's arms. "Neville was my classmate in Hogwarts, you know."

"He will be Sorted into Ravenclaw?" Alice gasped.

Hermione laughed. "No. Gryffindor," she corrected. Alice's brown eyes glittered with happiness and pride, and Hermione was compelled to add, "He was one of the bravest people I'd ever known."

Alice's eyes widened at Hermione's words, before her whole face crumpled, terrified tears now tumbling down from her eyes. "Was," she echoed.

"What?"

"You said _was_ ," Alice pointed out. "Will he—"

Hermione mentally berated herself, realising her slip. "Well, he is part of my _past_ ," she hastily excused. "I think that was just the proper tense." She expelled a soft, nervous laugh, hoping against hope that Alice would buy her stupid, _stupid_ excuse.

Alice still looked inconsolable, now tightly hugging Neville against her chest. The blonde babe squirmed in her arms as he started to emit soft whimpers, which soon morphed into loud wails. Harry flinched in Hermione's arms, surprised by Neville's cries, and looked like he was about to start crying too.

"Hush, now, love," Alice cooed, lightly bouncing Neville in her arms. Harry blessedly stayed silent, so Hermione merely brushed his hair away from his forehead and fondly watched as her baby slept.

Hermione's blue eyes then swept back towards Alice once Neville went back to sleep. Silent tears still slipped down from her eyes, and there was clear fear written all over her face.

She really didn't like telling the possible futures of the people she knew in this timeline, especially when she'd been working very hard to change their bad fates. James already knew how his life would have gone if Hermione Pettigrew hadn't been born, and the devastation on his face still haunted her at night. Lily had also hazarded she hadn't made it through this war, but Hermione had constantly reassured her she'd still be able to make a family with Sev. Regulus knew about his supposed fate because Hermione had no choice but to tell him after they'd almost died. Sirius, Remus, and her brother were starting to get curious but surprisingly had been patient when Hermione had been reluctant to reveal their futures. She was honestly afraid of what Sirius would feel when he found out he'd been left to rot in Azkaban for _twelve_ years before he was able to successfully breakout. What more if they discovered it was because of _Peter_ why their fates had been terrible.

"Do you—" She clammed up and took a deep breath through her nose as Alice slowly looked back at her face. "Do you want to know what will happen to you? To Frank? And Neville?"

Alice blinked her eyes in surprise.

"It's… well, I honestly think it doesn't matter anymore, because I'm going to make sure none of those things will happen at all," Hermione vehemently added. "But, if you're curious, I can… I can try my best. To tell you your futures, that is."

A contemplative look settled on Alice's face, her eyes once again straying back towards the serene face of her child. A small, fond smile grew on her face before she said, "I just want to know one thing." When Alice's eyes flitted back towards her, Hermione braced herself for a difficult question. "Will my Neville be surrounded by many friends?"

Hermione's eyes widened, honestly not expecting such a simple question. She gazed at Alice, trying to see any clue as to why she'd chosen to ask that question above all else. But Alice looked genuinely curious, a tad fearful too of what Hermione's answer would be.

Her eyes slipped closed, memories of a fumbling, clumsy, and _brave_ boy flashing before her mind's eye. She remembered how she had no choice but to petrify him because he stood up against the Golden Trio in their first year. She remembered Neville's firm determination to perfect the Disarming Charm during their fifth year. She remembered his brave face fighting against the Death Eaters during the Battle of Hogwarts. And wherever she looked, she'd see him with a friend, willingly watching his back and defending him from other foes.

"He will," she finally whispered, voice cracking once more as a myriad of emotions overwhelmed her. "He will be surrounded with many, _many_ friends."

Alice expelled a watery chuckle and wiped away her remaining tears. "That's a relief," she sighed. "All I wanted was for my son to grow up happy."

"That's it?" Hermione asked, opening her eyes to look at Alice in surprise. "You have no other questions about your future?"

The Auror gave her a small, sad smile. "You said it yourself – it doesn't matter anymore," she said. "Now that _you_ are here, with a knowledge of a possible future you can actively change. Just… just tell me what to do. Tell me what to do so that I can protect my son – my _family_."

The determination on her face echoed the determination on the face of a boy she'd once called her friend. This prompted a smile to grow on Hermione's face. "All right," Hermione said. "I can do that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like writing fluffy scenes but what I truly love writing the most is family fluff hahahaha. So yes, there will be plenty of Jamione family fluff in the next chapters.
> 
> Also, I'm using a lot of time skips already lmao. I honestly have no idea what the canon chronological order of this timeline up to the Halloween of 1981. I've researched about it (of course), but JKR has a lot of contradicting comments about it it's bloody insane. Ya'll may be more knowledgeable about it than me lmao but um yeah, as the author of this fanfic, I think I have the right for some creative tweaking to suit my plot. I'm legit laughing at myself because of the amount of research I did just to make this monstrosity make at least some sense. 
> 
> Lastly, I have some bad news. I'm doing some major editing on chapter 55 and the epilogue is only halfway done. As you can see, we're already nearing the end but try as I might, I cannot finish those two chapters. I have video conferences every freaking day. I'm starting to get really nasty headaches and I need a shitload of painkillers and power naps just to ease the pain. Staring at the laptop for more than an hour is becoming a little intolerable for me. You don't have to worry because by next week, things will be more benign. However, I might not be able to adhere to my daily update schedule once I've reached those last two chapters. I'm going to inform you, of course, but you know. Just a head's up hahaha. I hope you understand.
> 
> That's it. See you tomorrow!
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes)!


	52. chapter fifty-one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted this a wee early because I have a major report tomorrow and I have to study it all night lmao. Suffice to say, I know a lot about thyroid cancer now hahahahuhuhu.

* * *

**xxxxxi.**

_**the tide is brave, but always retreats** _

(East by Sleeping at Last)

* * *

**December 25, 1980**

Hermione watched in amusement at how James's parents and Anya cooed at five-month-old Harry.

She thought it was hilarious and lovely at the same time how they were reduced into pools of gooey emotions every time she brought Harry over to the Potter Manor. Anya, as usual, was lovely with Harry, but Hermione could feel that her mother's words and actions towards Harry were sweeter than how she'd been with her and Peter. Euphemia, the perfect picture of a Pureblood socialite most of the time, was reduced into a giggling mess every time Harry would roll over their carpeted floor, gurgling happy, incoherent sounds that melted Euphemia's heart. Fleamont was terribly boisterous, always making up an excuse to lift Harry into the air just so he could elicit a soft giggle from the healthy, bright boy.

It was really true, how a baby changes a family's dynamics. The grandparents were undoubtedly extra sweeter towards their grandchildren, leaving their own children wondering why in Merlin's name they weren't like that during their youth.

But she really couldn't blame the grandparents. Harry was steadily growing into a bright, happy boy. He'd already discovered the wonders of rolling around on any flat surface he was lying on, eliciting delighted laughs from the adults every time he successfully rolled on the carpet. Harry had started to become more energetic too, and despite exasperating his very tired parents, Hermione was just happy he was healthy. Harry had yet to speak his first word, though, and James made it a point to always say 'Dada' every time he was around, hoping against hope it would be the first thing that slipped from Harry's tiny mouth.

Harry's presence had made this world a slightly better place for everyone. But despite this, Hermione was still sometimes plagued with the prophecy about her son. There were nights when she'd press a sleeping Harry tenderly against her chest, tears dripping down his messy, raven hair. James had caught her in that state numerous times, but her husband had been a great comfort, gathering his small family in his arms until Hermione's tears had abated.

Hermione took a deep, shuddering breath and willed those ridiculous thoughts away. It was Christmas after all, and her family didn't deserve her melancholy today. She focused all of her attention on a giggling Harry, gurgling out gibberish whilst Fleamont made ridiculous faces to make him laugh more.

"Is everything all right, sweetheart?"

Her blue eyes met her mother's worried ones, forcing her to lift the corners of her lips in a passable smile. "I'm all right, Mum," she placated. "Just a little tired. Harry woke up several times last night, so I didn't get enough sleep."

A booming laugh escaped from Fleamont's lips. "I knew from the first moment I saw the infamous Potter hair he'd be a menace like his father," he said, lifting Harry in the air to draw out merry giggles from his mouth.

"We didn't get enough sleep either when James was born," Euphemia added, her eyes fond as she reminisced about James's youth. "He tried very hard to wake everybody up at night when he was feeling uncomfortable."

"The moment I saw Harry's eyes, I knew he'd be difficult like his mother too," Anya supplemented with a laugh. Upon seeing Hermione's sheepish look, she continued, "You were a curious little babe, sweetheart. You tried to climb out of your crib one too many times. Peter was a quiet, sweet boy when he was a baby but _you_!"

"He's so full of energy. I can barely keep up," Hermione chuckled, fondly gazing at her son. Harry caught her eyes and started to open and close his hands in her direction while expelling soft whines – his own sign of wanting to be held by his mother.

Hermione sauntered towards Fleamont and lifted Harry into her arms. He gurgled happily and started to grip her curls, tugging them merrily like one of his toys. She winced in pain, but let Harry continue his happy assault of her hair. She'd learnt the hard way that when she tried to pry her hair away from his grip, Harry's messy wails would ring loudly against her ear.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

She peeked through her tangled hair and spotted James grinning widely at them both. His hazel eyes were alit with amusement, prompting Hermione to merely laugh. "Harry's a menace," she sighed. For his answer, Harry gurgled happily and tugged her curls harder. "Thank Merlin I love you very much, you sweet, sweet boy." She placed a kiss against one of his chubby cheeks and grinned widely when Harry gave her a gummy smile.

James approached them both and dropped a kiss on the crown of her head.

"Have you eaten, James?" Euphemia asked. "You've missed Christmas dinner. I'll ask Pokey to prepare you a meal."

"As much as I'd like to stay, I'm afraid I have to steal my wife for a few hours."

There was something in the tone of his voice that made her brows furrow in concern. But one glance at James didn't betray any cause for concern, as there was still a wide smile on his face. "Well, okay," Hermione said, already shifting Harry in her arms to trail behind James.

" _Alone_ ," he firmly said, leaving no room for argument.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw gleaming amusement in Fleamont's eyes. "I hope we won't be receiving news about a new baby quite so soon," he teased.

Hermione felt her cheeks flooding red, but James merely laughed, a cheeky grin settling on his handsome face. "Harry's already a handful," he pointed out. "I think we can all agree we will wait until he can dress himself before we even talk about Baby No. 2."

"I'd really love a granddaughter soon, though," Anya helpfully offered, sending a dazzling grin at her daughter. This only made Hermione's cheeks flush redder.

James laughed once more as he pulled Harry away from Hermione's arms. The brunette winced when Harry tugged her curls for the last time before reluctantly letting them go. He started to show his usual tell-tale signs of a tantrum and Hermione tried to reach out for him again just to soothe his cries. But James firmly held her hand, a strange glint in his eyes.

"We'll be back soon," James reassured, depositing Harry onto Euphemia's lap.

Hermione could see the identical worried looks on their parents' faces but James was already tugging her out of the Drawing Room.

"What's wrong?" she hissed once they were outside.

The pleasant smile on James's face fell and Hermione could now properly see how weary he looked. "There's a reason why I missed Christmas dinner," he softly murmured. Instant dread crawled in Hermione's heart when James met her eyes. "Dumbledore's in the Order Headquarters. He wants to talk to us."

Now that he mentioned the Order leader, Hermione's dread grew. Their journey towards the East Tower was in tensed silence, but Hermione didn't dare break it, still trying to ready herself with whatever awful news she'd receive.

When they strolled inside the East Tower, Hermione was surprised to see that Dumbledore wasn't alone. The Marauders were there, and so were Lily and Sev. Dumbledore was sitting in his usual spot in front of the phoenix banner, flanked by Moody and Kingsley. Her eyes swept back towards the Marauders once more, noting how both Peter and Sirius looked as bone-deep tired as James.

"What's going on?" she fearfully whispered.

No one answered her question. Just when Hermione's impatience started to get the better of her, Dumbledore spoke. "There has been an attempted attack on the Longbottoms," he quietly started.

Hermione's breath hitched, her dread now growing into fear. "Attempted?" she managed to breath out.

Kingsley cracked a small smile and nodded. "Attempted," he echoed. "They've been on high alert ever since they heard about the prophecy and had placed more complex wards around their home. Your knowledge has proven helpful too, Hermione. Last night, Bellatrix Lestrange, her husband, and her brother-in-law, attempted to break into their home, but their intrusion alerted us and we were able to get there just in time."

She tightly closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Please tell me they were captured," she pleaded.

"They were," Moody firmly replied. "Pompous bastards thought they could get away from us."

Hermione expelled a sigh of relief and opened her eyes once more. "The Longbottoms are okay?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said, but there wasn't any relief in his eyes. His lips were pursed into a thin line, his serious, blue eyes intently staring at Hermione. "But we've all decided it would be best if they went into hiding now that Voldemort has heard about the prophecy and is taking any necessary action to eliminate his opponents."

"Harry," she breathed out, the fear increasing tenfold.

"You want us to go into hiding too," James deliberately said, his tone of voice strangely tight and strained.

"It's for the best, lad," Moody appeased. "The Longbottoms have already agreed to be placed under a Fidelius Charm and we've all also agreed that you and your family must be placed under one too."

"For how long?" Lily whispered.

Moody pierced her with his electric, blue eyes. "For as long as necessary," was his cryptic answer.

" _Why_?" Sirius hissed, eyes narrowing in confusion. "We only have one horcrux left to destroy. Why can't we just destroy that, search for that slimy bastard and kill him once and for all?"

"Excellent plan, Black," Moody drawled sarcastically, an ugly sneer now appearing on his face. "I don't doubt it at all if you do not survive this bloody fucking war."

All the colour drained from Sirius's face as his grey eyes glinted dangerously. Remus yanked him down when the shaggy-haired Auror tried to stand up and brandish out his wand.

"What Moody's trying to say," Kingsley quipped whilst shooting a disapproving glare at the Senior Auror, "is that we are talking about Voldemort here. An _evil_ bastard who'd evaded us for years, reigning terror over the Wizarding World. Although we already know what his weakness is, he strategises and he has an _army_. Now that he knows about a prophecy that may lead to his downfall, he'd be more rigorous and at the same time careful. We'd rather no premature war will happen with a lot of casualties before we've concocted a sound plan."

"Is there already a plan?" Remus insisted.

Kingsley frowned. "We're working on it," was his mere reply.

Hermione thickly swallowed and willed to banish her rising panic. Dumbledore's gaze was still intently glued onto her when he added, "Am I correct in assuming the other Potters of your own version of future went into hiding too?"

"Yes."

"Under the Fidelius Charm?" Sirius asked incredulously. Hermione's gaze briefly landed on him, noting the shock painting his handsome face. "But they… they—" His words died down, his tumultuous grey eyes heavily latching onto James, no doubt thinking about a future with a dead James Potter. Hermione had never explicitly told her friends what James and Lily Potter's fate had been in her own future, but she believed they'd all arrived at the same conclusion anyway.

"They were betrayed by their Secret Keeper," she softly revealed, tears now gathering in her eyes as she refused to look at the other people inside the room.

Collective surprised intake of breaths resounded off the walls. "Who?" Peter vehemently asked. The shock and fury on his face was clear and evident. Peter only knew that James and Lily had died protecting Harry, but he didn't know _how_. "Who _dared_ to betray them?"

Her tears increased, unable to look into the eyes of the man who would have undoubtedly betrayed his friends if Hermione hadn't been beside him throughout his whole life, steadfastly pulling him towards the straight path.

"It doesn't matter," she hurriedly murmured, swiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She lifted her gaze back towards Dumbledore, a deep and calculating look in his eyes. "If you think it is best we go under the Fidelius Charm, then so be it."

"When do you reckon we should do it?" James asked.

"As soon as possible," Kingsley replied. "We'd rather there weren't any attempted attacks on your family, like what Voldemort and his Death Eaters did to the Longbottoms."

"This will only make Voldemort persistent," Remus gravely pointed out. "The attacks will increase. More _murders_ will be committed."

His ominous warning drew the whole group into silence.

"The pinnacle is approaching," Dumbledore gravely said. "Far too quickly, if I were to be honest."

"If you place the Fidelius Charm on my family," James firmly started, "I want _you_ to be our Secret Keeper."

Hermione shook her head, an empty smile growing on her face. "Dumbledore's already the Secret Keeper for the Order Headquarters," she pointed out. "He can cast the spell but he can't be our Secret Keeper too. It'll compromise both the safety of the Headquarters and our hiding place."

Despair flitted on James's face, clearly believing they'd be safer if it were Dumbledore who became their Secret Keeper. Hermione knew it would be ideal too, because despite how she disliked Dumbledore's way of handling Order business, he was still a powerful wizard. He'd be unlikely to betray them.

"I'll do it."

Her heart leapt into her throat at Peter's earnest offer. Her eyes filled with more tears when they landed on her brother, and for a moment there was an image of a different version of Peter Pettigrew, cowardly and filthy as he grovelled at a weary Sirius and Remus, begging to be forgiven for all the sins he'd committed. But when Hermione blinked away her tears, she saw her brother once more – a far cry from that coward Hermione Granger had once known.

"It can't be you, Petey," she softly said. "You're Harry's godfather _and_ my brother. Voldemort will instantly target you and you might relay to him where we live."

"I would never!" he vehemently cried, slightly shaking with profound sureness despite the tumbling tears from his blue eyes.

Hermione gave him a small smile. "I know," she placated. "But you're too obvious, Peter. If… if we want to truly hide from Voldemort, it has to be someone he'd never think we would pick."

"I believe I am the most suitable."

Her eyes widened, landing on Sev who'd spoken for the first time. She knew that the other Marauders and _Merlin_ , even Lily were already readying themselves to loudly declare themselves as their Secret Keeper, but her best friend had already beaten them.

"Not a chance, Snape," James harshly spat.

Despite the obvious disgust in James's voice, Sev smiled. "You've said it yourself, Hermione," he said, choosing to ignore her furious husband. "We have to choose someone he'd never think you would pick." He jutted a thumb towards James, still holding her gaze. "I may be your best friend but Potter clearly hates me. Voldemort surely knows that."

James's eyes widened, realising that what Sev was saying made sense. Hermione knew he had a point too and judging from Dumbledore's gaze, he was approving. Beside him, Lily tightly held his hand, her emerald eyes shining in fondness at his brave offer.

"Make me your Secret Keeper," he insisted. "I… I owe you a lot of things, Hermione. Let this be my repayment."

But Hermione was already shaking her head. "You don't owe me anything," she corrected. "I did it for you because you're my best friend."

"Then let me do this because you are my best friend," he said, an uncharacteristically soft smile on his face. "Let me do this to protect _you_ and your family."

Hermione brightly beamed at Sev, disbelieving the words coming out from his mouth. She met Lily's eyes across the table, noting that her eyes were glittering with unshed tears too, but the pride in her gaze was unmistakable.

"If you _betray_ us, Snape, I'll—"

"And hurt Hermione?" Severus scoffed. His dark eyes bore into James. " _Never_."

His passionate vow flummoxed her husband, James's eyes widening in shock. He held Sev's intense gaze, though, and only looked away when Hermione touched his arm. "I trust him," she whispered. "He will not betray us."

James's lips drew into a thin line, before stiffly nodding thrice. "Fine," he said.

A smile flitted on Dumbledore's face, softening the sharpness he'd worn a while ago. "Very well," he replied. "I will be the one to perform the Fidelius Charm. New Year's Day seems a fitting day to perform the spell, don't you think?" The Potters merely nodded their heads in reply. "In the meantime, do whatever necessary things you must prior to hiding." He turned to Moody and continued, "I'm sure you'll be able to make up an excuse as to why James Potter won't be going to work for a while."

The Senior Auror gruffly nodded his head.

Dumbledore glanced at Hermione and James again, the smile on his face faltering. "You have to be prepared soon," was his gentle order.

Underneath the table, Hermione reached for James's hand. She slightly flinched at how tightly he held her hand, but Hermione knew her grip was just as equally tight.

**-ooo-**

A fond smile appeared on her face at James's booming laugh, his chest rumbling with Harry rested on his chest.

After their meeting with the Order leader, she and James went back to the Drawing Room, only to be accompanied by the other Marauders. James had invited the Snapes to hang around too, clearly ashamed at how he'd behaved when Sev had offered to become their Secret Keeper, but the couple had Christmas dinner with Lily's parents. They both engulfed Hermione in a tight hug, though, bringing more tears to her eyes, before they left. Dumbledore, Moody, and Kingsley also bid them goodbye, with the oldest wizard promising to contact the Potters once everything was arranged for their hiding.

Now with the Marauders gathered in the Drawing Room like nothing had happened made her heart ache. The happiness on their faces was obvious, with them exchanging anecdotes that never broached their current situation. James's parents and Anya were still in the Drawing Room after all and they didn't want to worry them yet. Not when it was Christmas and they were gathered together as family.

Hermione had opted to be more of an observer, her head still too frazzled from their meeting. She'd tried her very best to put on a small smile, just to hide the brewing turmoil inside her. Everybody seemed so happy and she wondered how the Marauders had so easily slid back into their cheeky, carefree selves, as if perfectly oblivious about their current predicament.

Tears filled her eyes when James broke into another laugh. She zeroed in on his face and looked for any tell-tale signs of despair, but her husband looked marvellously relaxed, his hand now absentmindedly rubbing soothing circles on their son's back. Although it comforted Hermione to see that James was at least all right, she couldn't help but notice that his eyes were a tad too bright, his smile a tad too shaky, and his laugh a tad too loud. It was as if he was _trying_ his best to show that he was happy today.

' _My brave Gryffindor,'_ she fondly thought, wanting nothing more but to crawl towards him and their son, and curl up beside them in comfort. But Hermione feared she'd burst into tears, snuggled against James, and she didn't want to alarm anybody.

Hence, she chose to stiffly sit on one of their squashy armchairs, weakly smiling when someone cracked a joke, or offering a few, whispered replies if the need arose.

It took her perhaps an hour for Hermione to finally realise she wasn't the only one who was acting reserved after the meeting. She met Peter's glistening gaze when Sirius started to recount his misadventures with his beloved motorcycle a week ago. She knew her brother so well that she understood he wished to talk to her alone, and from the way his eyes widened in such desperation meant he'd rather talk to her sooner rather than later.

"I'm going to ask Pokey to fix us some tea," Hermione softly announced, already sliding up from the couch.

"Let me accompany you, 'Mione," Peter said a tad too eagerly, scrambling onto his feet and quickly striding towards his sister.

They didn't bother waiting for anyone's reply before exiting the Drawing Room. Peter grabbed onto her elbow once they were outside and instead of directing her towards the Potter kitchens, he tugged her arm until they'd reached the library.

"What is it, Petey?" she asked, warily watching her brother as he started to wear the carpet down, his face crumpling in a myriad of emotions that Hermione couldn't pinpoint individually.

He drew to a sudden halt and tightly held both of Hermione's hands. Tears were now steadily streaming down from his wide, blue eyes and worried, she reached forward to brush his tears away.

"I was the one who betrayed the Potters, wasn't I?"

She froze with her small ministrations as her eyes widened at his claim. Hermione desperately tried to come up with a lie because Peter, of all people, didn't need to know that. But it was already too late. Her brother had seen the stricken look on Hermione's face, prompting his face to crumple in horror and disbelief.

"Peter—"

"I-I didn't want to believe it," he started, "but when I asked who the Secret Keeper was or who'd betrayed your version of the Potters, I saw your _eyes_ , Hermione. And then… and then you couldn't even look at me." Grief bloomed on his face as he held Hermione's gaze. "Is… is that the real reason why you refused to make me your Secret Keeper?"

" _What_?" she sputtered out in shock. "Is that what you've been thinking?"

Peter haphazardly wiped his tears and tiredly sighed. "It's a logical reason," he pointed out.

"No, it's not!" Hermione cried, reaching forward to clutch onto both of her brother's shoulders. "I didn't agree for you to become our Secret Keeper because it was _too_ obvious. Like we've said, you are Harry's godfather and my brother. It would be dangerous if you were our Secret Keeper, so please, please, _please_ get rid of that ridiculous belief that I didn't choose you because of… because of _him_."

Huge tears welled in Hermione's eyes as she fiercely wrapped her arms around Peter. "You're not the same as _him_ ," she vehemently cried. " _That_ Peter Pettigrew was a spineless rat, blindly following whomever was the most powerful at the time because he was a bloody _coward_. I still don't know why he betrayed his friends, but whatever it was, I'm sure his reasons were bullshite."

Peter crumpled the back material of her blouse and buried his face into the nook of Hermione's neck. "I won't betray you nor James nor Harry… nor _anyone_ ," he firmly stated, his voice muffled from his tears and Hermione's neck. "I can't even imagine—" His words were left dangling, choked up with overwhelming emotions that prompted her to tighten her hold.

"I know, Peter. I know," she soothed, smiling gently despite her steady stream of tears. "I've grown up beside you for years, blimey. And I know, without any ounce of doubt, that you are _nothing_ like him. You're a true Gryffindor, a hero in his own right, who'd do anything to protect the people he loves."

He resolutely pulled away and met her eyes. "I'm going to protect _you_ and your family," he loudly proclaimed, his glistening blue eyes turning steely with his impassioned words. "I'm going to do whatever it takes, even if it means I have to give up my life." He held both of Hermione's hands desperately, as if afraid she'd never believe him. "You have to believe me, Hermione."

"I do," she replied, fervently nodding. "But I've lost too much already, from this war and the one Hermione Granger was fighting in before. I'd rather I didn't lose my brother too."

She'd spoken the last sentence very softly, wondering if Peter had heard her at all. But then, Peter pulled her close and warmly embraced her once more.

"No one's going to die," she breathed out – a hope, _a promise_. "I'll make sure of it."

* * *

**December 27, 1980**

"What are you all doing here?"

James narrowed his eyes, suspiciously glancing from one Marauder to the other, but the innocent smiles on their faces didn't give any indication as to why they were at the Potter Manor once more. He craned his neck to look at Hermione, but his wife merely shrugged her shoulders, a small, amused smile on her face. She was soon distracted by Harry, who was sitting on her lap and happily suckling on one of her curls.

"How about hanging out for the day, Prongsie huh?" Sirius said, striding forward to sling an arm over James's shoulders. "Just the blokes." He glanced at Hermione and widely grinned. "Sorry, kitten. Much as we love you, this is strictly a Marauders only kind of thing."

"I thought I was the truest Marauder?" she quipped, quirking an eyebrow.

Sirius snorted. "Please, you and I both know James only placed that on the Marauder's Map because he's a bloody, besotted fool," he pointed out. The bespectacled wizard's cheeks turned red whilst Hermione chuckled. "So, what say you, James? For old time's sake?"

James slowly frowned and glanced at Hermione and Harry once more. "I'm not sure…"

"Come on, James," Remus cajoled. "Just for today! Technically, you've been 'reassigned' by Moody to the Italian DMLE branch today, so you're not exactly busy."

James still looked uncertain. "Well—"

"We'll be fine," Hermione reassured, already understanding why he was hesitating at his friends' request. "Harry and I will have so much fun today, too, so you can spend time with the boys."

"I want to spend time with you and Harry, too," James weakly protested. "You know, before…" He trailed off as a lump formed in his throat. James desperately trampled down whatever overwhelming emotions had started bubbling in the pit of his stomach.

He and Hermione agreed it would be best to spend their remaining days at the Potter Manor before Dumbledore performed the Fidelius Charm on their house in Godric's Hollow. They still hadn't broken the news to their parents, but he knew they were starting to get a bit suspicious at their behaviour. He thanked the blessed stars above for Harry, because his son was able to distract his grandparents before they started asking more difficult questions.

"You'll be able to do that once the new year comes, love," Hermione reassured, her lips stretching into a small, sad smile he wished she didn't show at all. As the days passed by, he noticed that Hermione was growing wearier. But his witch was bloody brave and strong, still able to smile and keep up pretences.

James swallowed down his feelings of foreboding and fear, ashamed that he was allowing himself to feel this way when Hermione and Harry needed him to be _strong_. There were a few moments he thought he'd crack and breakdown, but he'd immediately excuse himself to gather his wits, before joining the others and easily slipping back into their conversation. It was a miracle he hadn't gone insane yet, what with all the pretence he needed to show.

"Are you sure?" he tentatively asked, realising he hadn't spoken for a long time.

"I'm sure," Hermione said with a resolute nod. "Harry and I will be waiting for you tomorrow. But today, it'll be just the two of us." She then pressed Harry against her chest and rubbed her cheek against his. His son, delighted with his mother's cuddling, gurgled happy sounds from his lips and started tugging her curls again. "Oh, Harry, who's Mummy's favourite boy?" For his reply, Harry emitted a string of incoherent sounds, giggling madly when Hermione pressed kisses against his plump cheeks.

James found himself softening at the sight, thinking once more that Hermione looked the prettiest when she was interacting with Harry.

"Ack, the googly eyes must stop!" Sirius exclaimed with abject disgust. He glanced at Peter and scowled. "Tell him off, Wormy. Unleash the Selwyn within."

Peter merely snorted and rolled his eyes. "So, will you come?" the sandy-haired wizard asked, a small smile on his face despite Sirius's antics.

"Well…" James rubbed his nape, before deftly shrugging. "I don't see why not."

**-ooo-**

James wasn't really expecting anything, but going to the Shrieking Shack was admittedly something he didn't predict. "The full moon has passed already," he pointed out when Remus told them about their plan.

The werewolf glanced at him and laughed. "We used to still roam around the Forbidden Forest and Hogsmeade even when I wasn't in werewolf form," he explained. "It'll be fun. Honest. It'll be like the old times."

"Does Dumbledore know?" James asked with a frown, trailing behind his overly excited friends as they walked towards the imposing gates of Hogwarts. "I mean, I'm sure he'd want to know since technically, we're trespassing."

"Well, he does," Remus deliberately drawled. "He just warned us not to get caught."

The bespectacled wizard snorted. "And how'd we do that?" he sniped.

Sirius threw him a wicked smile whilst Peter's blue eyes shone with mischief. Remus snorted at his ridiculous question and, with wide eyes, James felt like he was looking back at the younger versions of his friends, pranksters through and through.

"Are you a Marauder or what?" Sirius barked, followed by a loud guffaw. Beside him, Peter pulled out his Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map he'd last lent to Hermione. He'd somehow forgotten about these treasures, too preoccupied with his Auror missions and life generally. Unable to help it, a huge smile appeared on his face, a sudden rush of excitement he'd used to feel before, spreading through his veins up to the very tips of his fingers.

"Last one to throw a hex at Filch will buy drinks for us all," Sirius then suggested.

Remus, ever the voice of reason in the group, pulled a face. "Is hurting Filch really necessary?" he growled. His golden eyes landed on James, his lips stretched into a firm line. "Please tell this buffoon hurting someone won't be necessary."

" _Well_ ," James deliberately started, the corners of his lips twitching into a small smirk, "theoretically, nobody would get hurt if we just throw a harmless charm. Like, for example, a _Tickling_ Hex."

Sirius grinned widely. "Ah yes, Prongs always has the best suggestions," he said. He then turned to Remus, his smile turning triumphant. "So yes, _theoretically_ , Filch won't get hurt if we threw a wicked Tickling Hex. The bloke might even thank us for making him laugh, because honestly, he's always been grumpy and dreary. It will be a nice change." He then gestured at Peter. "What do you think, Wormy?"

Predictably, Peter just shrugged his shoulders. "I mean, it does sound fun," he said with a sheepish glance at Remus.

" _Fine_ , blimey," Remus said with a disgruntled sigh, but James could see that even he was bloody well excited for their stupid, _stupid_ prank.

"Messrs," James said, squaring his shoulders like the true leader he was. "All in favour of pranking Filch say 'aye'."

"Aye!" they cried in unison, blinding smiles stretched widely on their faces.

James beamed brightly in return.

Perhaps, this would be a nice distraction after all.

**-ooo-**

"YOU BERK!" James roared loudly, sprinting away from the enraged caretaker. "We said a _Tickling_ Charm!"

Sirius was madly laughing, racing past James, followed by Remus, whose sprints were faster thanks to his werewolf abilities. Behind James was a sheepish Peter, his blue eyes dancing with mirth and his cheeks coloured red.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't help it," Peter panted, hastening his footsteps to keep up with his friends. He paused to gulp a lungful of oxygen before breaking into a large grin. "But admit it, you wankers. What I did was brilliant!"

"I think," Remus started, "Wormy might actually be the truest Marauder of us all."

"POT—HAHAHAH—TER—HUHUHU!"

James halted in his running and doubled over, large, raucous laughter escaping from his lips. "Bloody fucking hell, this is brilliant," he gasped in between his laughter, wiping away the tears that spilled down from his eyes from too much laughing.

"Don't stop running!" Peter hollered, pushing James to urge him to start running again.

The bespectacled wizard grinned and glanced over his shoulder. Argus Filch was having a hard time running after them, pausing often to let a laugh slip out of his mouth. The three Tickling Charms they'd sent definitely did the trick and made the caretaker release loud laughs they'd never heard him emit before but _Peter_ , the great buffoon, thought it would be hilarious if he sent a Crying Charm instead. Now, the poor man was alternating between loudly laughing, incessantly crying, and furiously berating the pranksters that had tormented his life for seven whole years.

"We're so sorry, Filchy!" Sirius yelled over his shoulder. "This will be the last one! Promise!"

The four Marauders finally broke through the double oak doors of the castle. Remus immediately sent a well-aimed and sharp _'Finite Incantatem'_ towards Filch to stop all the spells they'd sent towards him while Peter immediately spelled the door shut to give them some time to get away.

The boisterous men immediately clambered towards the banks of the Black Lake, their laughs now mellowing down into small, serene smiles as they watched the Giant Squid swim various strokes around the otherwise calm waters of the lake.

James's cheeks already hurt from laughing too much and truth be told, he couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed like this. He was too preoccupied with the war and the prophecy, of a possible future that petrified him until he couldn't breathe. Laughing silly like there was no tomorrow had seemed like a huge waste of time before tonight.

"For the record, Wormtail will be the one buying the drinks," Remus said, breaking the calm silence that had settled among the four.

"No fair," Peter said. "I wasn't the last one to send the spell!"

"You broke the rules, Wormy dearest," Sirius clucked. "That's the price you pay."

"What a funny thing to say," the sandy-haired wizard said with a glower. "When we worked our very hardest not to adhere to them in the first place."

James snorted in amusement. "The truest Marauder of us all," he teased, his hazel eyes glinting brightly under the pale moonlight. "But Petey's right; since when do we follow the rules?" A small, fond smirk appeared on his face, remembering all the times he'd run around the hallways of Hogwarts, mercilessly pranking unsuspecting victims which inevitably landed him in another detention with Professor McGonagall.

He stared at the Giant Squid, heart clenching a bit at the thought that he didn't know when he'd next see his friends, once he and his family went into hiding. "Drinks are on me instead, lads," he said.

No one even pointed out that _he_ was the first one to hit Filch with the Tickling Charm.

**-ooo-**

Peter in his Animagus form jumped down from Remus's shoulders as he scuttled towards the protruding knot in the bark of the Whomping Willow. It's dangerous dancing of thick branches stilled, letting the four Marauders pass through.

Remus bent down to place Peter back onto his shoulders and was the first one to duck inside the narrow cave. Sirius in his dog form, clutching a paper bag full of snacks between his sharp teeth, soon followed. It was James, also in his Animagus form, who brought the rear of the group, cases of firewhiskey perched on his back, held magically to stop them from toppling over.

As soon as they appeared on the first floor of the Shrieking Shack, the Animagi shifted back into their human forms. Remus flicked his wand at the fireplace, fire licking out of the tip to consume the remaining logs inside. Peter pushed the ratty furniture away and cleaned the dusty floorboards while Sirius deposited the food and beverages they'd bought at Hogsmeade.

The bespectacled wizard blinked widely, his eyes roaming around the shack they used to hang out in. Each scratch and piece of torn furniture spoke of a memory from their happy Hogwarts days. When he gazed back at his friends, he couldn't help but imagine them as students once more, loose, red Gryffindor ties hanging around their necks, white sleeves rolled up to their elbows, as they tried to perfect their Animagi forms.

"What the bloody hell are you gaping at?" Sirius cajoled, his grey eyes almost blue in amusement. "Come sit down, mate."

James grinned and settled on the floorboards between Peter and Remus, the latter now pulling out the Wizard's Chess Board they used to play, back when they were too exhausted to return to Hogwarts after a full moon. Sirius flicked the bottle tops open and passed around the firewhiskey.

"I think I shouldn't drink today," James deliberately said.

"I borrowed some of Hermione's Sobering Potion," Peter stated, his focus solely on arranging the white chess pieces. "You don't have to worry, James."

James's lips lifted into a smile, before tipping the icy bottle of firewhiskey, the fiery liquid leaving a burning path down his throat, which he welcomed wholeheartedly. James briefly closed his eyes and savoured the taste and the feeling.

"Who gets to play first?" Remus asked, now that the pieces were arranged.

"It's you against me, Moony-pie," Sirius said with a feral smile, his grey eyes now glinting menacingly like a raging storm. "This is payback for the last time."

The werewolf snorted, a challenging look in his eyes. "You're on."

**-ooo-**

The moon was at its highest peak, but the Marauders were still very much awake.

James's head was already fuzzy from too much firewhiskey and although he had never been a fan of drowning one's sorrows with alcohol, the fiery burn in his throat was a welcome distraction from all his tumultuous thoughts. Added to the distraction were his boisterous best friends, their drunken Wizard's Chess game nowhere near finished.

"What's taking you so long?" Peter whined, cheeks already flushed from too much alcohol and the toasty heat from the burning fireplace.

"Shut up, Wormy. I'm thinking," Sirius growled, his eyebrows pinched together as he blearily glanced at the chessboard. Even the little chess pieces were stomping their feet in impatience, but the shaggy-haired wizard merely bared his teeth in annoyance.

Sirius hovered his fingers over a rook and surreptitiously looked at Remus. The werewolf looked bloody triumphant, his golden eyes wide and glassy from inebriation, and his lips stretched into a winning smile. Rolling his eyes, Sirius slowly transferred his fingers over his queen, and the brightness on Remus's face instantly dimmed into a dark scowl.

"CHEAT!" Peter accused, pointing an accusatory finger in Sirius's direction. Remus realised what Sirius was doing and grew thunderous.

"Years have passed but you're still _shite_ at this, Moony-pie," Sirius gleefully cackled, ducking to dodge a hurtling screaming pawn aimed at his head.

James watched in amusement as Remus angrily gathered the protesting chess pieces in his hands and tried to one-by-one flick them towards Sirius. The grey-eyed wizard laughingly dodged away, doing ridiculous moves to add a flourish to their new bloody game. Peter was keeping count, loudly commentating every time Remus would hurtle a piece towards Sirius. He would whoop in glee if Remus hit Sirius, and then burst into boisterous laughter when Sirius tried to retaliate.

Laughter bubbled out from James's lips, scooting away from the ridiculous men to save himself from their stupid game. His lips were stretched far and wide in amusement, whooping with Peter if Remus was successful in his assault.

"You bloody wankers," he laughed, thinking they were slowly turning into a bunch of adolescent boys again with an adventurous streak that would only be quenched with a fulfilling quest. "I'm going to miss you all, fucking hell."

His little declaration faltered his smile. The fact that he might not see them for a very long time once he and his family went into hiding crashed heavily into his mind. Added to that, was the revelation that Hermione Granger's version of James Potter wasn't able to survive the war.

His eyes slowly swept from one bloke to another, wondering what had happened to their other versions when Voldemort broke into the Potters' hiding place and killed Harry Potter's parents. Were they able to live a long life, grieving their best friend's death for years? Were they able to still fight with the Order, continuing to trudge on despite the heavy loss they'd experienced? Were they able to stay beside Harry Potter, protecting him, taking care of him, _loving_ him, because their own best friend wasn't able to do so? All these questions had plagued him for days, and he was mighty tempted to ask Hermione because she _knew_ what would happen to all of them. But a part of him felt like he wouldn't like the answer and he'd decided to be blissfully oblivious of a future that had already drastically changed.

Perhaps it was the firewhiskey, or the blazing, cosy fire enveloping each and every corner of this shack they'd used to call their own. Because unwittingly, emotions bubbled up from James's stomach like a great tidal wave and, to his utmost horror, the laughter slipping past from his lips morphed into terrified sobs.

Try as he might, he couldn't make them stop.

Wide-eyed, he placed a hand against his mouth. The panic that seized him refused to recede. He'd been successful thus far, in keeping his emotions intact and letting everybody believe he was _fine_. Because he couldn't afford to panic and have a breakdown, not when his wife and his child were expecting him to be strong.

"Fina-fucking-ly," Sirius whispered, the relief on his face clear as day. Their ridiculous game had ceased upon James's first sob, and all three of them were now sadly looking at James.

Despite the tears, he furrowed his eyebrows. "W-what?" he asked, removing his glasses from his face to hastily wipe away his tears.

"You were starting to scare us, James. Honest," Remus said, a corner of his lips lifting into a forlorn smile. "You looked like a bloody Inferius these past few days, especially after Dumbledore told us the prophecy. You weren't… you weren't _you_."

James weakly snorted.

"We were expecting a breakdown," Peter revealed with a reverent nod. "I can imagine what you are going through because Hermione's… she's my sister and—" He choked up as tears steadily gathered in his eyes. "You need a bloody fucking good cry, Prongs."

James took a deep shuddering breath and stared at the ceiling. "Fuck this," he sobbed. "I'm not supposed to feel this way."

"Feel what. _Afraid_?" He lightly glared at Sirius, whose grey eyes were strangely glassy.

"Hermione—"

"—is not _here_ ," Remus softly insisted. His golden eyes had softened. "Hermione is not here, James. I know you want to show her that you're managing but trust me, it's hard to lie to everyone and say that you're okay when you're feeling anything but." A wry smile cracked on his face. " _Trust me_ , I'm a bloody werewolf."

James's face crumpled as he hid his face behind his hands. The bottled-up emotions he'd tried to hide just flowed like the amber liquid of firewhiskey, pouring onto the dirtied floorboards until he was shaking and empty and tired. In the safety of the Shrieking Shack, surrounded by friends he'd long considered his brothers in all ways but blood, James finally stopped lying to himself and murmured strangled words of fear for his friends to hear. There were random pats on his back and sloshing of alcohol when Sirius would coax him to drink a few more sips.

He felt mightily ashamed of all the dark feelings he'd hidden inside, but his friends never offered any words. They just stayed silent, listening to his lamentations, with occasional sniffs from Peter or awkward chuckles from Sirius because surely, he was the most uncomfortable amongst the four of them. But he appreciated this, nonetheless. He appreciated how Remus slipped a half-eaten chocolate bar towards James when he was recounting what Hermione had told him about the other James Potter who'd willingly faced Voldemort and died in the end. He appreciated how Peter cried with him when he voiced out his fears of choosing Snape as their Secret Keeper because _bloody fucking hell_ they weren't even friends. And he appreciated how Sirius, awkward and teary-eyed, had slung an arm over his shoulders when he confessed he'd thought of running away from everything, _once_ , and had felt dirty and ashamed for even entertaining such thoughts.

His heart ached, but he felt better after his tirade.

James wasn't sure how his breakdown ended. One moment he was finishing another bottle of firewhiskey, and the next he was cracking his eyes open, with a dry throat from raw crying and dehydration and a throbbing headache from a massive hangover.

He blearily gazed around the Shrieking Shack, his vision a little blurry since he wasn't wearing his glasses. He noted that the four of them had all fallen asleep. Sirius was sprawled like an eagle in between Remus and Peter. The werewolf was muttering incoherent sounds underneath his breath whilst Peter tried to awaken the entire Hogsmeade village with his loud snores.

James realised he had passed out on one of the couches in the Shack. Judging from his painful neck, he'd fallen asleep at an odd angle.

"Bloody hell," he groaned, his fingers lifting towards his temples to massage his hangover away. He tried to search for the Sobering Potion Peter had promised he'd brought, but moving too much made him nauseous.

Instead, he pulled out his wand and summoned the Sobering Potion. A glass vial popped out from one of Peter's pockets and zoomed into James's hand. In three mighty gulps, he'd finished the potion and his head felt instantly better. He also conjured some water to soothe his scratchy throat.

He felt like shite and he didn't doubt he looked terrible too. He banished any evidences of his breakdown from his face and searched for his glasses.

Once the world had become clearer, James slowly stood up from the couch. He knew the blokes meant well, stealing him away from his family just to let him have his inevitable breakdown, but James had to see Hermione and Harry to make sure they were all right.

He scribbled a quick note telling them he'd gone home and with a pop, he Disapparated from the Shrieking Shack.

* * *

**December 28, 1980**

Hermione's eyes flew open when she heard a 'pop'. Glancing at the clock beside their bed, she noted it was only three in the morning.

Alarmed, she patted her hand underneath her pillow to grasp for her wand. Hermione briefly threw a glance at Harry in his bassinet, relieved that the infant hadn't been roused from his sleep. Her fingers brushed the wooden handle of her wand, but upon seeing James's hazel eyes in the dark room, she calmed down. "James?" she asked, voice cracking a bit because of sleep.

Her husband wordlessly padded towards their huge bed and slipped beside Hermione. Her nose wrinkled a bit, noting the smell of firewhiskey on his warm breath. "What are you doing back home?" she asked. "I wasn't expecting you back so early."

"I missed you," he whispered, pressing his face against her shoulder.

Her brows furrowed, noting how shaky his voice had become. "You're drunk," she blurted out.

He lowly chuckled, his arm around her waist tightening. "I hung out with my friends. What did you expect?" he said. He placed a brief kiss on her shoulder and added, "I already took a Sobering Potion."

Hermione lightly smiled, guessing he had had fun with his best friends tonight. James had been tense for the past few days, strangely sombre most of the time, and Hermione had wondered what he'd felt deep inside. She bloody well knew he was just putting on an act so as not to worry her, but truth be told, his shoddy pretence made her worry more.

"What shenanigans did the Marauders get up to this time?" she teased.

"We pranked Filch."

" _What_?"

"He didn't get hurt," he immediately added. She felt his sleepy smile against her skin, prompting her to roll her eyes. "Just some harmless fun, Whiskers." A chuckle escaped from his lips, his warm breath washing over her exposed neck. "Then we played drunken Wizard's Chess in the Shrieking Shack, like the old times. As usual, Moony was being his cranky self and Pads was incorrigible. Wormy was… he was…"

The smile on her face fell, eyes widening when she felt some moisture on her neck. It took her a few moments to realise that James had started to cry.

"James?" she worriedly asked, trying to bend her neck downwards to glance at her husband.

But James tightened his hold around her. "Please don't look at me," he whispered. "I look like shite. Just—I need a few minutes."

His breathing had turned shallow and she could feel him starting to shake.

"James…"

"I'm scared, Hermione."

Tears instantly filled her eyes at his earnest confession. "And I-I _feel_ like shite because of what I'm feeling," he harshly spat. "I'm supposed to stay strong for _you_. For Harry." He pressed his face harder against her neck. "I don't know how you do it, Hermione. You are… you're _amazing_ and _brave_ while I'm sobbing like a cowardly buffoon and—" The words died down from his lips as he took a deep shuddering breath. "I don't deserve you."

Hermione, ever stubborn, forced him to loosen his grip around her waist until she could shift on the bed and fully face him. James was still refusing to meet her gaze, but Hermione held both of his wet cheeks and lifted his head until his hazel eyes met hers.

He wasn't exaggerating when he said he looked like shite. His eyes were puffy red, as if he'd been crying even before he'd come home. There were dark smudges underneath his shining eyes, no doubt from lack of sleep and constant worrying.

"Oh, love," she whispered, eyes filling with more tears as she gingerly brushed his tears away.

He closed his eyes in shame. "I-I'm sorry," he said. "I'm not supposed to bloody feel this way."

Hermione sighed and leant her forehead against his. "Contrary to popular belief, I'm scared too," she whispered. James slowly opened his eyes and looked at her. "Hermione Granger has already been too involved in war but this… with _Harry_ and _you_ , this is entirely different, and the fear is magnified a hundred times more."

She lightly pulled away to meet his swimming eyes, a small, sad smile growing on her face. "It's all right not to always feel brave," she reassured him. "Especially if it's just the two of us. You can show me how you truly feel, James. I'd rather you don't keep up pretences because they will break you in the end."

Her tears increased, remembering her Harry Potter, with emerald eyes that steadily dimmed as the war stretched on. Hermione appreciated Harry's effort to show that he was brave, especially to those who'd truly placed their trust in him, but she hated how it dehumanised him, making him broken beyond repair. She didn't want that to happen to James too.

Hermione gingerly kissed his remaining tears away and allowed him to tightly hold her until the sun had risen from the horizon, drawing as much comfort as he needed from her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One thing the HP movies failed to emphasize was how tragic the fate of the Marauders was. Imagine that scene in DH, when Harry used the Resurrection Stone to meet his dead loved ones. I think that scene will be really painful if they showed how Harry was almost the same age his parents. I know they're a bunch of rowdy, reckless Gryffindors but I'm sure this war – and now with Hermione's dark past revealed – had forced them to grow up. They're all so, so young and it hurts my heart ahaha, hence, this long, emotionally exhausting chapter. And I really think James will be the most shaken of them four, because I've pointed out before he was the most privileged, what with his upbringing. Of course a breakdown is inevitable haha. My poor, poor James.
> 
> So… maybe there are some things that don't make sense to you anymore but hopefully they will make sense in the following chapters. It made sense to my Beta and I trust her ahaha so here's to being hopeful hehe.
> 
> See you tomorrow!
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes).


	53. chapter fifty-two

* * *

**xxxxxii.**

_**strength means blessed with an enemy** _

(Armor by Sara Bareilles)

* * *

**December 28, 1980**

Hermione stood back and admired how the fluttering snow decorated the facade of the Snapes' House. The slithering vines wrapped around the white metal gate now boasted snow-coated, pink flowers. Hermione suspected Lily had spelled the flowers everlasting, to continue blooming despite the harsh winter.

She also spotted a small sign hanging on the wooden door, the words 'Welcome' scrawled cheerily in lovely handwriting. A laugh bubbled out from her lips, already imagining how Sev would be sneering at the ridiculous sign, but wouldn't say anything to his wife in fear of facing her wrath.

Said wooden door was suddenly pulled open, revealing her bemused best friend. "Hermione!" Lily greeted. "What are you doing there, standing like a loon? Come inside! It's bloody cold."

"Hi, Lily," she said, striding forwards to envelope the older witch into a hug.

"Why did you Apparate here?" the redhead asked in exasperation, shivering as a cold, harsh wind brushed against her cheek. "Our Floo is connected with the fireplace in Potter Manor."

Hermione's cheeks bloomed red. She knew it was dangerous to roam out in the open, especially after the Longbottoms were attacked. But she and her family would be hiding soon. She knew she'd be cooped inside for weeks – _months_ even – and she wanted to spend a few more moments outside, just as long as she was careful.

Lily's eyes softened, understanding Hermione's silent answer to her previous question. "You didn't bring Harry?" she then asked.

Hermione apologetically smiled as she followed Lily inside. "He's with James today," she explained. "Besides, we agreed that it'd be best if we don't go out with Harry until New Year."

For a brief moment, Lily's emerald eyes glinted with a myriad of emotions. But the redhead had already turned her face away from Hermione, determinedly pulling her towards their living room. "I still haven't forgiven you for not making me his godmother, if you must know."

Hermione sighed. "Blimey, I'll pop more babies out in the future just so you can be a godmother," she cajoled with a laugh.

"You better, Hermione Pettigrew!" she cried.

The brunette fondly smiled at Lily's red hair. "Technically, I'm a Potter now." She grinned when Lily merely glowered. "I'm really sorry, Lils," she said. "It's just… _Peter's_ the right one for this job."

Lily drew to a halt and fully turned to look at Hermione. "Never mind the job," she dismissed. "Harry will still be surrounded by people who love him, godparents or not."

Hermione's eyes misted at Lily's earnest words. "I'm glad to hear that," she whispered.

It was at that moment when Sev chose to appear, ducking out of their bedroom with dishevelled hair and bleary eyes. "Oh, you're here," he dully said, sleepily striding forwards to give Hermione a one-armed hug.

Hermione tilted her head to smile at him incredulously as a huge yawn tore out form his lips. "Well, somebody's not sleeping well," she said, prompting Lily to snort in concurrence.

"Slughorn's been tiring him to the bone," Lily complained, grasping onto Hermione's arm and tugging her towards their squashy chair in front of the fire. "It's the winter _holidays_ , seriously! But the sourpuss refuses to rest, obsessively perfecting a new batch of potions to please his Slughorn dearest."

Judging from the way Sev's eyes flashed, Hermione deduced this wasn't the first time they'd fought about this. Lily looked honestly petulant; her arms now crossed against her chest as she glared at her feet. Severus looked exhausted and annoyed; his lips curled into a frown as he tried to catch his wife's eyes.

Hermione awkwardly stepped back, feeling like she was intruding in such a personal moment between her two best friends.

"You know _why_ I've been obsessively distracting myself," Sev then snarled.

Lily's eyes immediately snapped upwards to look into his dark eyes, her petulance shattering for a moment as her eyes filled with tears. Sev's annoyance morphed into deep pain - Hermione had once seen that happen once, when Mistress Prince intruded his mother's funeral.

And Hermione knew, even though they weren't looking at her, that _she_ was the reason why Sev's been marvellously distracting himself.

A lump formed in Hermione's throat, tears also prickling her eyes. She had promised herself she would spend this day with her best friends, tear-free before she went into hiding with her family. It was a mighty feat, that much she knew, but she'd hoped she wouldn't cry this soon.

"A-a movie," Hermione blurted out, stuttering a bit as she looked away and discreetly wiped a rolling tear. "I thought we'd be watching a movie together?"

Lily furiously blinked, doing a poorer job at concealing her tears. "Right," she said with a wet chuckle. "Of course." She caught Hermione's hand and tugged her towards the couch, sitting her down in the middle. Opposite their couch was a small television, something Lily had purchased a few months prior, just to preoccupy her and Sev during their day-offs.

Hermione saw Sev taking a huge sigh before deliberately walking towards the two witches, opting to plop down in the vacant space beside Hermione.

"I wasn't sure what movie to watch," Lily said, gesturing at the various VHS tapes on their coffee table. "So I grabbed whatever caught my fancy." Her emerald eyes briefly landed on Sev, a small smirk on her face. "I'm sure the sourpuss won't allow us to only watch one movie."

Hermione bit back a smile at how Sev deflated at Lily's teasing, obviously relieved that their ridiculous fight was already forgotten. "Let's just watch," he sighed, throwing a withering glare at his wife. "I'd like to take a nap soon."

Lily rolled her eyes and pulled out her wand. With a flourished wave, one of the VHS tapes flew towards the player, slotting inside. The television flared into life and started playing the chosen movie and Hermione shifted on the couch, to make herself comfortable. She grabbed onto both of Lily's and Sev's hands, her eyes still trained on the television. She'd seen how Lily's eyes had briefly glanced at her in surprise, but then Lily had merely smiled and placed her head on Hermione's shoulder. Sev looked slightly uncomfortable with her display of affection, but the way he briefly squeezed her hand meant he wouldn't pull away.

For hours, they watched the television. A movie would end and aside from a quick snack and bathroom break, the trio would opt to watch another movie. Hermione long discovered Lily had chosen fun, light-hearted comedies. Snorts of laughter would occasionally escape from their lips; even Sev was having fun, and Hermione was just happy that she got to spend the day with her best friends.

They were perhaps on their fourth movie, and the over-the-top slapstick comedy had drawn out various rounds of giggles from Lily. "Figures you'd be amused at this kind of violence," Sev pointed out over Hermione's bushy hair.

"Shut up, sourpuss," Lily retorted back, her lips stretched far and wide. "I know you think it's funny too."

Hermione found herself laughing at their ridiculous antics. "I'm going to miss you both," she said, as her chest started to hurt with overwhelming emotions that she had wished wouldn't resurface today. But try as she might, she couldn't trample them down and soon, her laughs turned into quiet sobs. Despite the comedic action taking place on the movie, where crying as a reaction seemed a weird thing to do, Hermione couldn't stop her tears from tumbling down.

Neither Lily nor Sev said anything about her shaky tears. She wasn't even sure how they looked, her eyes too blurry to see either the movie or her best friends' faces.

All she knew was that their hold on her hands was tight, warm, and very much secure. Her heart ached at the thought that she wouldn't be able to see them for a very long time. _That_ she might not be able to see them anymore.

"I'm going to miss you both so much," she whispered once more through her thick tears.

For the rest of the day, with movies playing on the television that none of them could focus on anymore, Hermione reverently held Lily's and Sev's hands, drawing as much comfort from their warm holds as she could.

* * *

**December 30, 1980**

"Are you really sure this is a good idea?"

Hermione shifted Harry in her arms and glanced at her worried brother. "If not now, when?" she softly asked. Her eyes turned forlorn as she looked down at her son. "Mum deserves to know, Petey. We're going to hide soon. I don't want to leave without telling her the truth."

Her brother expelled a soft sigh and wordlessly reached for her arm, giving it a comforting squeeze before directing her towards the huge, lovely garden behind the Potter Manor.

Hermione smiled, marvelling at how the snow blanketed the vast grounds and bushes. There were a few flowers blooming despite the harsh winter, swaying elegantly in the cold wind. Despite the billowing snow, the air around the garden wasn't too harsh and biting. Hermione suspected Euphemia might have spelled an advanced Warming Spell over her beloved garden, wanting to still venture out in the open and admire the everlasting flowers even though they were in the middle of winter.

She saw Anya sitting on one of the white, cast iron tables, daintily sipping from a teacup Pokey had prepared for the Pettigrew family today. It still bewildered Hermione how Anya could easily slip into a prim and proper Pureblood, her posture and elegance already screaming a certain air of aristocracy she sometimes saw in James and Sirius.

"Oh, hello," Anya greeted, lifting her blue eyes to look at her children. Her eyes glittered more when they landed on Harry, who was already wiggling his arms towards Anya, no doubt recognising his lovely grandmother. "Well, hello to you too, sweet boy."

Hermione smiled and allowed Anya to snatch Harry from her arms. Her mother started swaying a bit, cooing sweet words to the little boy until Harry was giggling and gurgling incoherent sounds.

"It's all right if you don't stay," she whispered to her brother. "James and the others are in the Drawing Room, discussing the Fidelius Charm."

Peter shook his head and clutched her elbow. "They'll manage without me," he said. "I think you need me more than they do."

She smiled gratefully at Peter. Truth be told, she was rankled to the bones, unsure how she would spill all of her secrets to Anya. Although she knew her mother would understand, Hermione couldn't bear the thought of seeing the betrayal and disappointment on her face. She loved her mother because she'd been the kindest, most understanding woman she'd ever known as Hermione Pettigrew and it pained her heart, knowing she would be the one to cause her distress.

But then again, she was going to hide with James and Harry soon. She didn't want to leave Anya, who'd undoubtedly be more hurt if she never told her anything about her past and the prophecy.

"Mum," she called, her voice cracking a bit as emotions now clambered up to her throat.

Anya's smile faltered, eyes instantly snapping towards Hermione's direction.

"We need to talk."

Worry now clouded Anya's face, noting the tears that had started to gather in Hermione's eyes. Harry was mightily oblivious to the emotions on his mother's face, too busy playing with Anya's bushy curls.

"Come on. Let's all sit down," Peter softly cajoled, directing Hermione to one of the chairs. He sat down on the vacant seat beside her and sadly smiled at Anya. "Come on, Mum. You too."

Anya deliberately pulled a chair beside Hermione, sitting Harry down on top of the table. Hermione briefly smiled when Harry sneezed, already pulling out her wand to give him a Warming Spell. She reached out and brushed her fingers against his soft cheek, a few tears escaping from her eyes at the same time.

"Hermione."

Her mother's tone of voice was serious and firm. Hermione took a deep shuddering breath and slowly gazed back at Anya, whose blue eyes were also already shining with tears. Although she still did not know what was happening, it was plain to see that Anya was dreading whatever Hermione was going to tell her.

Taking another deep breath, Hermione started to tell her tale. She told her mother about Hermione Granger, about drinking a potion to escape her past and being reborn as Hermione Pettigrew. She told her about the horcrux hunt, their skirmish at the Cave, and how deeply involved she—and Peter—were in the Order. She told her about the prophecy, and how they all feared it was Harry and that in order to protect him and his parents, they'd all decided to hide once the new year came.

She made sure not to leave out any details. Anya deserved the truth, after all. And… and if this would be the last time she'd see the woman who had loved her more than life itself, then Hermione wanted to make sure that Anya knew everything about her.

By the time she was finished with her tale, Hermione was steadfastly staring at her hands. Peter had already gripped one for support, but it wasn't enough. Tears steadily leaked out from her eyes, dripping down onto the cold, iron table.

Slowly then, Anya's hand sneaked up and grasped her other hand. Hermione immediately met her mother's eyes. Anya's eyes were filled with unending tears, sorrow and understanding painted clearly on her face.

Hermione had no qualms about launching herself into Anya's arms, apologising incessantly for keeping her in the dark.

"Oh, my sweetheart," Anya said, rubbing soothing circles on her back. "My brave, _brave_ sweetheart."

She sobbed on her shoulder and held her tight, relieved that Anya wasn't mad. She was also relieved that she didn't start asking questions, because Hermione's head felt too muddled to answer any of them.

Peter soon joined, encircling them both in his arms, and silently crying into Hermione's hair.

"I'm sorry, Mum," she thickly said, slightly pulling away to catch her mother's gaze once more. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

Anya sadly smiled and tenderly brushed strands of hair away from her face. "Thank you for telling me, Hermione," she said. Fresh tears welled in her blue eyes as she tightly held both of Hermione's hands. "I-I'm admittedly surprised. I still cannot completely wrap my mind around what you've just told me but… but always remember that I love you, Hermione. You're my _daughter,_ no matter your past or your future."

Hermione earnestly nodded her head, drawing Anya into her arms once more. At the same time, Harry started to whimper on the table, catching on to the sad feelings from the adults in the garden. Hermione softly chuckled and pulled away from Anya again, just so she could press her baby against her chest. Harry stared at her with his wide, blue eyes, confused as to why his family were crying.

"I only have one request, Hermione," Anya softly then added.

The brunette slowly looked back at Anya, a question in her eyes.

"Please come back alive."

* * *

**January 1, 1981**

The sun hadn't even risen yet, but Dumbledore had already called for them to gather at the Order Headquarters. She and James didn't get enough sleep last night, minds too preoccupied about what would happen today. Although the New Year's Eve dinner with James's parents and Anya was a lovely distraction, the fact that the young Potters would go into hiding loomed heavily on their shoulders.

"Come on, love," James whispered, interlacing his fingers with hers and tugging her out of the Potter Manor. Cold, biting wind greeted them and Hermione lightly shivered, hugging herself tighter to dispel the cold. James wordlessly draped his arm over her shoulders and pulled her closer, relaying as much body heat as he could, as he led her towards the East Tower.

Hermione was surprised they were the last ones to arrive. Dumbledore was already seated on his usual chair, flanked by the other Marauders, the Snapes, and Regulus. Her heart clenched at the sight of her friends, knowing this would be the last time she would be seeing them.

She then resolutely focused her attention on the glinting Gaunt ring placed on top of the table.

"Any volunteers?" Dumbledore amicably asked, gesturing a hand at the ring.

Peter was on his feet instantly, such a determined expression on his face, that Hermione had rarely seen him wear. "Let me do it," he thundered, his hands balled into fists at his side. Remus had already pushed the pouch of basilisk fangs towards the unwavering, sandy-haired wizard.

Her brother grasped a basilisk fang and deliberately approached the ring. Her breath hitched at how steadfast he looked, how _sure_ he was about destroying the ring, and she didn't even bother wiping her tear away when he took a mighty plunge towards the ring.

The black stone cracked down the middle, the familiar Dark Mark-shaped smoke billowing out from the destroyed ring. Peter was shaking when the smoke screamed at his face, but he stared it down with a dark glare. By the time the smoke dissipated, Peter was breathing deeply, tears now pouring from his blue eyes.

Slowly then, his eyes met hers. His gaze held meaning, as if _beseeching_ for Hermione to believe that he would always be by her side, no matter the circumstances. More tears slipped down from the brunette's eyes, breaking into a huge grin, relieved beyond belief that Peter Pettigrew would not turn out to be the spineless coward she'd always feared he'd become.

"We did it," she breathlessly said, eyes slowly sweeping back towards Dumbledore. His blue eyes were impossibly bright behind his half-moon spectacles. "All of the horcruxes are destroyed."

"Indeed," the Order leader said, calmly weaving his fingers together as he leaned against his chair.

Her heart thudded wildly inside her ribcage and Hermione couldn't stop herself from grinning widely, even though her cheeks were starting to hurt.

All horcruxes were now destroyed, something Hermione Granger had fervently wished for for _years,_ but had failed to achieve in the end. But now, _now_ Hermione Potter was able to become successful.

' _Harry,'_ she thought. _'We did it.'_

**-ooo-**

The goodbyes were brief. Dumbledore wanted to cast the Fidelius Charm as quickly as possible after all.

Hermione understood Dumbledore's orders. Truly she did. But it was so hard saying goodbye to the people she had come to love so much in this world, uncertain when she'd be able to see them again.

_If_ she'd be able to see them again.

Lily was a crying mess when Hermione pulled her and Sev into a hug. The redhead was blubbering incomprehensible words about keeping safe and missing her so much. Hermione didn't bother deciphering her words; Lily's actions and expressions were enough for her to understand how Lily truly felt for her.

"Be safe, kitten," Sirius softly whispered, pressing a kiss on her temple while Remus tightly held her hand, his golden eyes shining with unshed tears.

Hermione wasn't quite sure why she was weepy when she pulled Regulus into a hug. The Black heir was obviously uncomfortable with the display of affection, but the way he crumpled the back material of her sweater meant saying goodbye to her was just as difficult. "Come back alive," were his parting words.

Euphemia mothered Hermione, giving her pieces of advice on how to take care of a baby. She listed down all of James's favourite food, his likes and dislikes, and beside her, Fleamont's brown eyes glistened, too emotional to offer any words. Hermione drew Euphemia into a hug, halting her from one of her inane litanies, and whispered, "I'm going to take care of James." The usually dignified Potter matriarch's eyes filled with tears, sobs tearing out from her thin lips as she clutched onto Hermione for dear life. James slowly pulled his mother away from Hermione and hugged her instead, whispering words against her hair while his mother continued to sob.

It was Peter who hugged her the longest, the _fiercest_ , and despite not saying anything at all, she knew it was him who would miss her the most. Anya joined in their group hug and peppered kisses on Hermione's face, begging her to be safe, for her to come back alive.

"It is time," Dumbledore announced.

Hermione had a difficult time untangling herself from her family, but Peter resolutely unwound her arms around his, gently pushing her towards James.

Her husband immediately interlaced his fingers with hers, a silent offer in some meagre comfort he knew wouldn't be enough to soothe her breaking heart. Nonetheless, she squeezed his hand in silent gratitude.

With tears in her eyes, Hermione's gaze swept from one face to another. It still blew her away how these people had become so important in her life. She couldn't imagine her life without Lily and Sev constantly urging her to take breaks from studying, or the Marauders driving her mad with all of their shenanigans. She couldn't imagine her life without Anya's over-the-top meal preparations, or the ridiculous Pureblood traditions and etiquette the Potters still stuck to despite being infinitely better than most others in the Sacred Twenty-Eight.

These people were her _family_ and Hermione was sad to part from them for an indefinite amount of time.

"Come on, love," James whispered, lightly tugging on her arm. Harry squirmed in James's arms, already reaching out for his mother. A watery chuckle escaped from her lips as she drew Harry into her arms, pressing the lovely boy against her chest as close as possible.

With one last mighty sweep of her eyes towards her family, she whispered, "See you soon."

Not good bye.

_Never_ good bye.

**-ooo-**

"This will take a while," Dumbledore said with a grimace as he positioned his wand in the air. Severus stiffly nodded his head and stood beside the Order leader, also raising his wand to recite the litany of spells he'd memorised by heart. James was hovering behind them, an utter look of concentration on his face, as if trying to make sure that nothing bad would happen.

The Potter Cottage was slowly disappearing before Hermione's eyes as Dumbledore and Sev continued their incantation. Not wanting to stay and watch as her home disappeared behind the Fidelius Charm, Hermione walked aimlessly around Godric's Hollow with Harry sleeping quietly in her arms.

The small community was still asleep. The usual bustling people were still tucked inside their homes after celebrating throughout the night for New Year's. Hermione noted various singed firecrackers littering the narrow street, streamers and noise-makers that were undoubtedly used by the village people to welcome the New Year.

Godric's Hollow was lovelier during this time. The last time she'd been here, with an emerald-eyed Harry Potter, the place had almost felt like a ghost town, the air thick with the aftereffects of Voldemort's murder. Today, the rows and rows of homely cottages looked inviting, flanked by towering trees swaying gracefully in the wind.

Hermione's feet brought her towards the village graveyard just behind the church. Her eyes scanned the multitude tombstones, some old and crumbling due to age and neglect, while some were very much polished and clean, fresh flowers decorating their gravesites.

A lump formed in her throat when she stood where the tombstone of James and Lily Potter had been in her previous life. There was nothing there, of course, with only a fresh patch of snow-covered grass below her feet.

Her eyes watered, remembering how Harry's eyes had filled with tears as he gazed at his parents' tombstones. Hugging her baby closer to herself, Hermione wondered if this Harry would also be standing in this very same place seventeen years from now, silently mourning his parents, who he wished he had spent more time with.

' _No,'_ she firmly told herself. _'No, that won't happen. Not on my watch.'_

With a deep, shuddering breath, Hermione forced herself away from the graveyard. From where she stood, she could see that the Fidelius Charm was only half-way done and thus, she continued her meandering through the peaceful village.

She trudged through the snow-covered cobblestone streets, tightening her hold around her slumbering child to give him as much heat as she could. Her journey was aimless, allowing her feet to carry her anywhere she could, and it was only when she saw the imposing obelisk in the village square that she found her destination.

From afar, the obelisk stood tall and ominous, carved names of Muggle soldiers and civilians alike who'd fallen victim during World War II decorating the stone. Hermione half-expected the obelisk would change form as she neared it, depicting a family of three, the parents happily gazing at the babe in the mother's arms. But, even a meter away, the obelisk stayed unchanged.

She once again remembered Harry, standing wide-eyed and sad as he stared at the monument built for his family. James and Lily were both fondly staring down at an infant Harry, the snow settling on their heads like warm, little knit caps to protect them from the cold.

Her eyes filled with tears as she stared down at her slumbering child. Harry looked so peaceful, his cheeks and the tip of his nose slightly rosy pink from the cold. She blinked as a single snowdrop landed on Harry's nose, and when she looked overhead, she realised that it was starting to snow again.

Hermione pulled out her wand to cast an overhead umbrella, but before she could do so, the snow had stopped falling on them.

She glanced upwards again, confused, only to see that someone had already cast a makeshift umbrella. Hermione was surprised to see James, a small smile on his face.

"What are you doing here, Whiskers?" he worriedly asked. "You know that it's dangerous to meander around since…" He let his words dangle as a frown now tugged down on his lips.

"We're fine," she reassured. "I'm just… trying to explore for the last few hours before we hide away from the world."

His hazel eyes softened and wordlessly, Hermione reached for his other free hand to hold it.

Her gaze latched onto the obelisk, eyes drifting through the various names of people who'd fallen victim in the Muggle war.

"Two galleons for your thoughts?"

She chuckled, recalling Sirius's joke that had stuck, and briefly glanced at James again. "I'm not sure if I told you yet," she slowly started. "I've told so many revelations in the past few months I honestly can't keep up anymore." He snorted in reply and she smiled, continuing, "But, after Voldemort found the Potter family in my past life and—" She paused and swallowed, still unable to say the word even though they both knew of the Potter family's fate.

Instead, Hermione looked at the obelisk and added, "Godric's Hollow is home for a lot of wizarding families, but I'm sure you already knew that. And so, in honour of the family who'd sacrificed themselves to bring Voldemort down, they built a memorial."

Hermione gingerly pressed a palm against the obelisk, a sad smile now on her face. "Muggles don't see it, of course. All they ever saw was the obelisk for the war victims. But it would shift for the magicfolk, a monument of the family that had sacrificed too much standing on it instead." She traced a finger against one name and sighed. "They said that during winter, the snow looked like knit caps on their heads," she whispered. Her gaze turned unseeing, recalling the last time she had been standing right in this very spot, holding Harry's hand to comfort her distressed best friend. "Harry's eyes—the emerald ones—had been really sad when he saw the memorial for the first time. It was—"

Her breath hitched as a tear slid down from her eyes. She tore her gaze away from the obelisk and glanced at her husband. James's eyes were already clouded with worry. Hermione removed her hand away from the obelisk and instead cradled James's jaw against her palm. "You have no idea, how much _relief_ I felt, when I saw that the obelisk hadn't changed into a memorial."

A wry smile appeared on her face when James placed a kiss against her palm. "I don't think it was fair how the world celebrated the day Harry Potter defeated Voldemort as a babe," she continued. "A child lost his family, after all."

Her own Harry, blue-eyed and still so terribly small, stirred in her arms. Hermione glanced down at her son, who was starting to whimper. She shushed him, placed kisses on the crown of his soft head, and bounced him in her arms until Harry quietened.

"Let me carry him," James then urged. "I'm sure your arms need some rest."

Hermione expelled a watery chuckle and transferred Harry into James's arms. "Before we know it, he'll be towering over me," she said, fondly brushing her knuckles against Harry's cheek. "That is, of course, _if_ , you know…"

James caught her eyes. "Here's to hoping the Potter family doesn't become a memorial, eh?" he lightly teased, just to slightly ease the worry in her heart.

"Hermione."

The couple snapped their gaze towards Severus, who was standing a few meters away from them. His eyes narrowed at the tears in her eyes, but Hermione gave him a small, reassuring smile. "Is it done?" she asked.

He stiffly nodded his head and gestured for them to follow him.

Predictably, the Potter Cottage was invisible to their eyes. Still, it didn't stop Hermione from feeling a little disconcerted. Her blue eyes roamed all over the empty lot, trying to see any glimpse of the quaint cottage she'd started calling home, but try as she might, neither a small flicker of the bright windowpanes nor the polished rooftop was anywhere to be seen.

"Here," Sev offered, extending a crumpled parchment towards her.

Her eyes skimmed the scrap of paper – _The Potter Cottage is at Number 27, Godric's Hollow._

When Hermione blinked, the quaint cottage was once again standing right before her. Her lips stretched into a small smile, wordlessly passing the paper to her husband.

"How will Harry be able to see our home, though?" James asked, directing the question towards the silent Headmaster. "Seeing as he's still a baby and unable to read. It's what's been bugging me for ages."

"The Fidelius Charm only requires someone to _see_ the address on the bewitched parchment. The brain doesn't need to process the words for the magic to happen," Hermione explained, answering for Dumbledore instead. To prove a point, she grabbed the parchment from James's hand and lightly tapped Harry's cheek. The small boy blearily opened his eyes and Hermione immediately placed the address in front of his eyes.

Her baby then flinched, wide eyes now staring at where the Potter Cottage stood.

"See," she said, gesturing at Harry.

She saw how James's gaze turned fond, undoubtedly thinking that despite the circumstances, Hermione didn't pass any opportunity to show how much of a know-it-all she was. Sev had no qualms masking his expression though, snorting and playfully rolling his eyes at her explanation.

"As for my last trick," Dumbledore quipped and he made another series of complicated swishes and flicks. Hermione's eyebrows furrowed when she noted nothing had changed at her home.

"I spelled it so that the façade of your home is still visible for everyone to see. Rest assured that no one will be able to see your family inside," the older wizard explained with a smile. "I'm sure everybody will be terribly confused as to why your house suddenly disappeared out of nowhere. We do not want to raise any suspicion now, do we?"

Hermione slowly nodded her head. "No, sir," she whispered in reply.

"Well then," the wizened man continued. "Seeing that your house is already placed under the Fidelius Charm, the whole family is under strict orders to only venture out if, and _only if_ , the need arises." It didn't slip past Hermione's notice how Dumbledore's gaze was mostly pinned on James. "If said need arises, the Invisibility Cloak must be used. Am I making myself clear?"

James sighed, a small grimace on his face. "Yes, sir," he murmured whilst Hermione slowly nodded her head.

Dumbledore's stern expression then melted into a sad understanding. "All of the horcruxes have been destroyed," he continued. "It is only a matter of time before Voldemort's downfall."

"Do you have a plan?" she blurted out.

The old wizard's eyes hardened, his smile turning tight. "All great plans take time, Hermione," he mildly said. "Patience, my dear."

Hermione took a deep breath and nodded in resignation. Voldemort was still a force to be reckoned with, mortal or immortal. The Death Eaters were formidable, too. It wouldn't do any good if Dumbledore acted prematurely with a half-arsed plan. Hermione would rather the people she loved be alive after she came out of hiding.

"Please be safe," she whispered, her blue eyes sweeping from Dumbledore to Sev. "All of you."

Her best friend drew her into a tight hug. "We will wait for you," was Sev's resolute promise.

Tears prickled her eyes as she placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. "Take care of Lily," she whispered. "I will see you both soon."

Sev squeezed her briefly before completely pulling away.

Hermione turned to James and held his hand. With one last glance at the other two, the Potters walked into their home, hoping for the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really so tempted to post everything in one go just so y'all stop getting frustrated with the choices I'm currently making lmao. Also just so I'm done with this fanfic haha.
> 
> The Fidelius Charm is full of contradicting things for me to be honest haha. HP wiki about Fidelius Charm just gave me a headache. Hence, I just tweaked the charm to suit my fancy ahahaha. I'm going to explain it lol because y'all might start asking questions again and I'm shite with replying anyway. So, under said charm, buildings will become invisible (example: East Tower of Potter Manor) unless you're shown the bewitched parchment bearing the address of said building, like what Dumbledore did to Hermione and what Sev did to the Potters. And the only way for the Secret Keeper to divulge said secret is to give the parchment voluntarily. So you know, you can't steal it because the magic won't work— it'll just be a bunch of jumbled words. Losing the paper won't be an issue too because technically, the Secret Keeper didn't give it up voluntarily. I'm not sure but I think in canon, you can also say it verbally. But for this fic, I just chose to use a bewitched paper. So um yeah, it made sense in my head.
> 
> This fic is tiring me out holy schanps I can't wait for this to end hahaha. I'm done with the major edits in chapter 55 already lmao look at that.
> 
> Only a few more haha.


	54. chapter fifty-three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warning: Smut lol.

* * *

**xxxxxiii.**

_**oh god, i'm so tired of being afraid** _

(Six by Sleeping at Last)

* * *

**January 31, 1981**

"Is this really necessary, James?"

She huffed when James pushed her down onto the couch and deposited Harry on her lap. Warily, she watched as he quickly clambered onto the opposite side of the couch and tinkered with the Wizard camera, peeking at the lens and adjusting it as needed until he was satisfied.

"James…"

"Yes, it is necessary," he firmly replied, a tone of finality in his voice. "Ever since Harry was born, we haven't had a decent family portrait, Hermione. It is Pureblood tradition to hire an official photographer to get the family's picture taken once a new heir is born, but seeing how everything's fucked up right now, we really can't afford to do that now, can we?"

"Language," she hissed, immediately covering both of Harry's ears with her hands. "You know that Harry still hasn't said his first word!"

The corner of James's lips lifted into a small, apologetic smile. "Sorry, old habit," he said as he sauntered towards the couch and plopped down beside Hermione. "I'm trying my best."

"I'm going to _hex_ you if Harry's first word is a curse word," she glowered, prompting him to widely grin. She then wildly gestured at the camera and added, "And I think this is still unnecessary, James."

"It's tradition," he insisted again.

Hermione sighed and frowned at the camera. They'd been cooped inside the house for a month and Hermione was starting to think James had already gone barmy. James Potter was an active, adventurous wizard after all. Of course he'd be the first one to grow restless, forced to hide himself inside the house without anywhere else to go.

"Hermione," he placated, "come on. Show a big smile. You don't want Harry to see your ridiculous frown on our first family picture, do you now?"

"This is _ridiculous_ ," she petulantly said. Plastering a smile on her face was ridiculous, especially considering their situation right now. Taking a photograph seemed a tad silly to the brunette.

James ducked his head and peered down at her, an understanding smile on his face. "Show that pretty smile of yours, love," he cajoled. "For Harry." He reached forward and lightly pinched Harry's cheek, who fussed on Hermione's lap and tried to shy away from his father's touch.

Hermione's eyes softened as she gazed down at Harry. At six months, he'd gained a few pounds. Her son still exhausted his parents, discovering new places with his recently acquired skill – crawling. It was terribly early for him to start crawling, although the baby books she'd slaved over during her pregnancy reassured her that some babies would start to crawl much earlier than others. James once pointed out that Harry had her genes; of course, he'd start acquiring skills that would be deemed a little advanced for his age.

"Hermione?"

She shook her head and sighed, glancing back at James. "I still think this is ridiculous," she muttered. "But…" She fondly looked at the gurgling baby on her lap and smiled. "For Harry."

"There it is," James said, breaking into a huge grin. He pulled out his wand, gave it a tiny wave, and the camera produced a soft 'click'. "The camera will flash on the count of 'five'."

Hermione finally directed her eyes at the camera and showed a small smile. Five seconds passed and there was a small flash of light, but of course, _of course_ Harry would make it difficult for his exasperated parents. At three seconds he started to squirm, reaching out for the new family pet, a white cat named 'Snowball', and almost toppled off Hermione's lap.

The Potter family took a few more photographs, and after twelve tries and with very flustered parents, James deemed the photograph passable.

With another wave of his wand, the photograph was produced and he slipped it inside a small picture frame. He broadly grinned and gave it to Hermione for her to see.

A soft laughed escaped from her lips. The moving photograph looped again and again, of Harry suffocating Snowball as he tightly hugged the cat against his chest. James's hazel eyes were gleaming brightly in amusement while picture Hermione would grin, and then chuckle at the expense of their poor cat.

"You like it?"

Hermione flashed a smile. "It's wonderful."

* * *

**March 31, 1981**

"Harry," James cried in exasperation. "Please, please, _please_ eat your food." 

The eight-month-old loudly babbled incoherent words, his face comically scrunched up in frustration, as he started to fling various food towards his chest and, to his father's displeasure, on James's face. James was starting to smell like baby food, which admittedly grossed him out after trying it one time. Try as he might, he couldn't cajole Harry into eating the disgusting goop. James had once reasoned to Hermione that the weird concoction of various nutritious meals shouldn't be served to _anyone_ , even babies, but his wife had assured him that Harry needed them for growth.

"You're a menace," James sighed, lightly pinching both of Harry's cheeks. Harry's babbles grew louder, as if marvellously retorting a good comeback that would make Hermione proud. James didn't doubt his vocabulary would be as extensive as his mother's, but right now, the babbles were an incoherent mess.

A soft snort brought his attention to Hermione, who had just finished washing the dishes. "When I asked you to feed Harry, I was hoping the food would be inside his mouth. Not everywhere _but_."

"He's a menace," James whined, placing the small, plastic fork back on Harry's plate. "I don't know how you do it, Hermione. I'm atrocious at handling Harry."

Hermione laughed. "You're doing great, love," she reassured. "Harry's just really a handful."

"But you take care of him wonderfully," he reasoned out. "I'm _pants_ at it."

"You're doing great," she insisted as she sauntered towards the messy pair. She lifted Harry into her arms, who then instantly latched onto her curls and happily tugged them. James snorted at the pained grimace on Hermione's face. "Well, somebody needs to take a bath now."

Harry exclaimed a series of happy squeals, babbling more against his mother's ears as Hermione brought them both towards the bathroom.

Before crossing the threshold, she paused and glanced back at James. "You look like you need a bath too," she pointed out.

"Thanks," James sarcastically quipped. "I'll clean up after you give Harry a bath."

Hermione quirked an eyebrow. "Why don't you hop inside the bathtub too?" she suggested, then continued her journey inside the bathroom.

James huffed a laugh but followed them inside nonetheless.

Hermione was already waving her hand filling the bathtub with lukewarm water. She poured soap inside and deposited a naked Harry inside the tub when there were bubbles everywhere. Harry, who they'd discovered loved taking a bath, was already excitedly clapping his hands. His cheery babbles increased as Hermione conjured an invisible floating ring around his torso, just to keep his head above water without needing to hold him constantly.

"Hop in, James," Hermione commanded, her back still against him as she started to wipe away the goop on Harry's face and chest with a wet towel.

The bespectacled wizard sighed and stripped naked. Hermione gave him space as he settled inside the bathtub, his back pressed against the edge. Harry was grinning widely, offering him his beloved rubber ducky.

He silently watched as Hermione cooed at their son, placing random kisses on his wet cheeks until Harry was a giggling mess. His hazel eyes softened at how much she doted on Harry. He'd always thought she'd be the stricter of the two, but James already had this inkling Hermione would spoil Harry rotten, even though she'd try her very best to be a good parent.

Hermione, by then, had squeezed shampoo onto her palms and gently slathered them through Harry's messy hair. "Oh, Harry, Mummy loves you very much," she tenderly cooed, making sure that no shampoo suds got in Harry's clear, blue eyes.

The gooey feelings in his heart grew. James loved it the most when he was watching Hermione interact with Harry. Although she constantly assured him he was doing a good job of taking care Harry, she was infinitely better than he could ever dream of being. Perhaps, Hermione had already had plenty of practice mothering the Marauders at Hogwarts. They were a handful, after all, acting like a bunch of children with a streak of mischief. Of course taking care of Harry wouldn't be much of a problem for Hermione. Besides, from her numerous stories about Hermione Granger and her adventures with her ridiculous boys, it seemed like taking care of other people came naturally to her.

He had stayed silent, content in watching Hermione show her love for their son in her own little ways. Now, clean without any soap suds in his hair, Harry was happily flailing his rubber ducky around in the water, emitting little sounds of wondrous delight only he could understand.

"Your turn," Hermione said, blue eyes bright as she scooted towards James. Before he could protest, she was already gently cleaning his face and chest with the same wet towel she'd used on Harry.

James felt wonderfully soft and well-loved. He wasn't sure how he was looking right now, but if he could take a guess, he'd most likely have a besotted look on his face. He truly wanted to snipe a teasing, snarky comment, just to fluster Hermione, but he didn't want to disturb the peaceful look on her face, so open and full of love.

Hermione did the complete ritual she always did during Harry's bath. She squirted shampoo on her palms and spread them in James's messier, thicker hair. There was ridiculous concentration on her face, as if the simple act of lathering the slippery liquid through each of his strand was a difficult test she needed to ace.

With a silly, smitten grin on his face, he ducked his head closer to Hermione's. She drew back a little in surprise, her fingers still weaved through his shampoo-filled hair. "Does Mummy love me very much too?" he cheekily asked.

The brunette blinked her wide eyes before she expelled a soft laugh, the corners of her eyes crinkling with genuine happiness. "Very, _very_ much," she reassured.

James chuckled and pressed his lips against hers.

* * *

**May 31, 1981**

She was barely out of the shower when James suddenly burst inside the bathroom, his hazel eyes unbelievably wide.

"James!" she shrieked in surprise. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Harry," was all he could breathe out.

Panic instantly seized her whole as she hastily secured a towel around her body. Her hair was still dripping wet, but Hermione didn't mind. Different scenarios ran inside her head as she quickly trailed behind James. Was Harry badly injured? _Or_ , Merlin and Morgana, had Voldemort and the Death Eaters been able to find them even when they'd been very careful?

Her heart was thudding wildly inside her chest as she arrived in their living room. The whole floor was littered with Harry's toys. She saw Snowball curled against a stuffed stag toy, cracking one blue eye open to curiously glance at the panicky parents.

Hermione's eyes roamed around as she tried to see if there were intruders in their house. When she didn't see anyone, her eyes immediately sought out Harry. He was blinking owlishly at his parents, one hand anchored on the couch. He was wobbling precariously, as if he'd plop onto his bum soon.

"What's—"

Whatever she was about to ask didn't escape her lips. Hermione gasped, jaw dropping when Harry gave them a gummy smile and started cruising against the couch. Harry had started to stand up on his own and support himself against furniture and Hermione knew it was only a matter of time before he'd be able to walk on his own.

Beside her, James fell on his knees and opened his arms. "Come on, mate," he urged. "That's it."

Harry babbled excited sounds. He paused when he reached the end of the couch and almost toppled over, but he tightly held onto the couch and glanced back at his parents.

"Come on, Harry. Just a step," James continued to urge, the smile on his face wide and blinding.

Hermione held her breath as Harry's tiny hands unlatched from the couch. For a moment, he wobbled precariously. Hid arms were already spread out in front of him, ready to brace himself in case he fell. But he was a curious, little boy, and once he found himself balancing without falling, Harry took a tiny step towards his parents. Then, another. By the time he'd taken a third step, he'd toppled onto his bum and had burst into a round giggles.

The brunette had tears in her eyes, but the smile on her face was unmistakable. James was boisterously laughing on the ground, already crawling towards Harry to gather him in his arms.

"You berk!" she cried, kicking him in the bum. Surprised, James almost lost his balance. "I thought something bad had happened to Harry!"

"Language!" James laughingly pointed out as he reached Harry and lifted him into the air.

She was too giddy to realise she'd cursed in front of their child, also falling on her knees to praise her brilliant, little boy.

* * *

**July 31, 1981**

James Potter was very bored. _So_ bored he thought he'd go ballistic soon.

He and his family had been in hiding for seven months already. The first few months were tolerable; he was just happy that his family was safe and he got to spend his every day with them. Harry was steadily growing into a bright, healthy boy and brought joy to both of his parents. James was endlessly thankful they were able to witness his firsts, and he was able to bond with Harry to his heart's content.

But then again, James was a reckless, _adventurous_ man. He'd spent the previous months trying to explore every nook and cranny of the Potter Cottage his parents had gifted them. As far as he knew, this cottage used to be Linfred of Stinchcombe's home, before he procured enough money to foresee the building of Potter Manor. The house's attic held various, hidden notes from the Potter family's founding father and when Hermione and Harry were busy, James would find himself tucked inside the attic, practicing some obscure magic his ancestor had invented.

His transfiguration skills had improved marvellously and sometimes, Hermione would join him in his practice. She still managed to bewilder him with her magical prowess, teaching him some advanced spells. Most of them she'd learnt when she was Hermione Granger, explaining that most of them had saved her life too many times to count.

However, the novelty of these sessions with Hermione had long waned too, and James had taken up a new hobby instead. He'd always been a decent cook; when he was a child, he'd sneaked down into the kitchens of Potter Manor and demand Pokey teach him how to cook decent meals for his midnight snack. Now, with a family of his own, James took it upon himself to prepare their meals every day. Hermione was decent at cooking too, no doubt after helping Anya prepare their meals for years, but James had insisted to do this chore every day, happy to feed his family and improve his cooking skills at the same time.

But then, like all hobbies he'd acquired during their forced hiding, James had grown bored of cooking also.

He knew it was a ridiculous thing to feel when he should be thankful he and his family were still safe and very much alive. But there were times when he'd reminisce about his Auror missions, fighting alongside his best friends to catch the bad guys, and he _missed_ that feeling.

He tried to hide these feelings from Hermione, knowing she'd partially blame herself for getting them in this situation, but sometimes, he'd catch her looking at him with such sad, guilty eyes. They'd tiptoed around topics about the outside world, keeping their conversations about friends and family at a minimum, lest they made everything depressing. James had already made a mistake once of wondering out loud if the Order had made a plan to defeat Voldemort since all of his horcruxes were already destroyed, and Hermione had spent the remaining day worrying herself sick. She'd written a long and winding letter demanding Dumbledore give them an update, but Dumbledore had yet to send a reply and Merlin, _bloody Merlin_ , James was soon going to lose his mind.

The merry 'ding' from the oven roused him back to reality. James lightly shook his head to rid him of such depressing thoughts. It was Harry's first birthday after all.

Hermione soon came in, carrying a suspicious lump on a tray. She was still wearing her favourite worn apron, pink and frilly, as she settled the tray on the table. Harry, who was sitting on his high chair, babbled merrily at the sight of the cake, already extending his hands to try and grab it.

"Are you sure it's edible?" James asked, warily surveying the cake she'd insisted on making. He trusted her cooking, of course, but the cake really did look _suspicious_.

She threw him a light glare. "Then don't eat it, _Potter_ ," she snapped, an annoyed frown on her face.

"Berk!"

James snorted in amusement and looked at the excited toddler. Hermione's cheeks reddened as Harry continued to chant the slur, although James noticed that she was trying her very hardest not to laugh.

"Oh Harry, sweetheart, _please_. That's a bad word," Hermione pleaded, prompting James to snort once more. She pierced him with her narrowed, blue eyes. "You're never going to live this down, are you?"

"Nope," James merrily replied, popping the 'p' with much gusto.

Harry had started to talk, quipping one-worded replies to relay what he truly felt. It just so happened that his very first word was, _hilariously_ , 'berk' which he undoubtedly copied from his mother. James clearly remembered how his wife threatened him not to speak bad words in front of their growing son, lest he copied him. Funnily enough, it was _Hermione_ who'd taught Harry his very first word and the brunette had been mortified about it ever since.

"Mama! Mama!" Harry then excitedly cried, trying to reach for a fistful of cake. Hermione immediately sliced a small portion and placed it on Harry's plate. The child had no qualms in grabbing a few chunks and ramming them inside his mouth, whilst smearing some on his chubby cheeks. Harry hummed in delight and suckled on his fingers, his blue eyes wide and bright with happiness.

"Well, at least someone's enjoying your cake," James teased, absentmindedly conjuring tissues out of thin air to wipe Harry's messy cheeks. "Come on, Harry, say 'Dada'."

"Mama!" he echoed.

"No, Dada."

"Mama!"

James sighed and frowned at Hermione. "Why won't he say it?" he whined.

"Well, obviously it's because he loves me _more_ ," she cheekily replied. James scoffed in protest, watching as Hermione lifted Harry out of his high chair and started to cuddle the birthday boy. Hermione didn't seem to care how Harry's messy hands and cheeks smeared chocolate onto his mother's thick curls.

"Your hair's going to suffocate Harry in the near future. I'm sure of it," the bespectacled wizard joked, extending his hand to pinch Harry's cheek.

Hermione grimaced in pain as Harry happily tugged one of her curls. "He seems awfully happy with my hair, though," she pointed out. She then broke into a huge grin when Harry happily babbled, as though he was trying to tell his mother how his day went. Hermione's gaze was solely on Harry, indulging the little tot by answering him with words that prompted Harry to continue his incoherent tirade.

James fondly grinned and rested his cheek against his upturned palm, content in watching the mother-son duo interact. The gooey feelings he always felt when watching them resurfaced in his heart once more and truth be told, he could spend his whole day just watching them together, love and happiness evident between them. Although he got annoyed at times, when Hermione quipped Harry loved her more, James couldn't help but secretly agree. Because really, how could Harry not? Hermione was amazing with him, _patient_ with him, and looked at him like he was her whole world.

She then caught his gaze and her wide smile faltered. "What?" she asked.

"You're very pretty," he answered without much thought. "Do you know that?"

Her cheeks bloomed red as her expression turned shy. "Stop teasing me," she spat, throwing him another light glare. "I know I'm already covered in chocolate because of Harry's messy hands."

His grin grew wide, noting the chocolate streaks on her nose and chin. Still, she was unbelievably pretty; Hermione should have known.

"I wasn't teasing," he protested, already cradling his palm against her cheek. "You're really very pretty, Whiskers. _Sweet Merlin_."

She laughingly batted his hand away, but James grinned and leant forward to give her a kiss against her lips. Harry whined and tried to push his father's face away, prompting Hermione to burst into soft chuckles.

"Tough luck, mate," James tutted at the annoyed tot. "You're going to have to learn to share your mother."

**-ooo-**

Hermione finally finished washing the dishes the Muggle way and wiped her hands clean against her apron. She then removed it from around her waist and hung it on a small hook.

When her blue eyes scanned the kitchen, she absentmindedly swished her wand to put everything back in its place. She threw an exasperated glance at Harry's high chair, predictably the messiest amongst all the furniture in their small kitchen. She flicked her wrist once more and was only satisfied when his chair was spotless.

She then strode out of the kitchen and into the living room, noting that both James and Harry were already in the bedroom. James had fixed Harry's scattered toys but had missed a few playthings hidden under their couch and the table.

Once everything was clean, Hermione proceeded to double check their wards.

Satisfied that the wards she, Dumbledore, and James had placed were still intact, Hermione flicked her wand for the last time, turning off the lights.

Hermione then sauntered inside their bedroom, a soft yawn tearing out from her lips. It had been quite an eventful day, what with Harry's first birthday and all, and she couldn't wait to cuddle beside James and sleep the night away.

She faltered in her steps, spotting her husband already snoring softly on their bed with Harry peacefully on his chest. Hermione couldn't stop the wide, bemused grin from appearing on her face, noting how even asleep, the father-son duo looked marvellously alike. From the way their foreheads creased or how their mouths were both slightly ajar, it was undoubted that Harry would grow up to look like James in all ways but his eyes. Hopefully, Harry's ego wouldn't be as huge as James, though.

Her smile turned fond as she slowly pulled Harry from James's chest. Harry softly whimpered in her arms, and Hermione slightly jostled him, humming a soft lullaby under her breath until he'd quietened once more. After making sure her baby wouldn't awaken, Hermione placed a kiss on Harry's forehead and laid him down inside his crib.

Hermione then changed into her nightclothes and sauntered back to the bed. She grinned at the crooked glasses still perched on James's nose and gently pulled it away. She then placed it on their bedside table and climbed into bed beside James, placing her head on his shoulder. He instantly wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close despite being asleep. She smiled against his shoulder and placed a kiss against his jaw, murmuring a soft 'I love you' under her breath. A string of incoherent words flew out of his lips before he started snoring once again, obviously too deep asleep to be roused.

She still felt very much awake though, her thoughts once again filled by a plan she'd been formulating for weeks.

They'd been in hiding for _seven_ months already, and Hermione was slowly losing her mind. She could see that James was growing restless and it pained her how he was doing his very best to hide how he was truly feeling, lest he worried her. But she still saw how he was growing impatient from all the waiting. Dumbledore had yet to give them any news about what he was planning to do to bring Voldemort down, and it was starting to frustrate her. Sev was the only one who corresponded with the family since he was their Secret Keeper, but even his letters were vague, merely assuring them that the Order was doing their best to fight Voldemort's tyranny.

Hermione at first accepted their fate and patiently waited for Dumbledore's plan to come into fruition, but after seven months in hiding, Hermione knew she had to do _something_ already. This could not go on like this. Halloween was fast approaching and the agony of anticipating Voldemort's inevitable arrival was eating her alive. She trusted Sev with all of her heart, and she doubted her family would be betrayed by him in the end, but Hermione had this inkling that in order to finish Voldemort once and for all, he had to find them in the end.

Hence, the gears inside her mind had turned for weeks, trying to come up with a plan herself on how best to lure Voldemort into a trap. She had stayed up late at night a few times to perfect her plan. A part of her felt guilty for hiding it from her husband, but Hermione wanted everything to be perfect in her mind first, before she pitched her idea.

She wasn't even sure if it would work… if she would even come out alive. But truth be told, she was so tired of hiding, of _running_ away from an evil wizard that had made her life miserable – past and present.

With a resolute glint in her blue eyes, her hold on James tightened.

Her plan was already finished and she promised herself she'd start to put it into action tomorrow.

* * *

**August 1, 1981**

Hermione was frustratingly distracted the whole day. She wasn't sure if James had noticed it, but her husband hadn't commented, too busy playing with Harry in their living room.

Dinner had ended and Hermione was now washing the dishes in the sink. She welcomed the monotony of washing them the Muggle way as her mind ran a hundred miles per hour, repeating her plan again and again until it was all she could think about.

Such was her distraction she didn't even notice when James slipped inside the kitchen. It was only when he was pressed behind her that she realised she wasn't alone anymore.

"Hi," he whispered, his warm breath washing over the exposed skin of her neck, prompting goosebumps to erupt there.

Whatever she was thinking flew out of the window, terribly distracted by something hard poking against her bum. James placed a kiss against her neck and the plate she was holding almost slipped out of her grasp.

"James!" she breathily chastised, but James merely smirked against her neck and gave her another warm kiss.

"Where's Harry?" she managed to ask.

"Asleep," he reassured. "I have you all to myself now."

His hold on her hips was tight and secure. Her breath hitched when he slightly tilted her head so he could have full access to her slender neck.

"I'm not done with the dishes," she whined, tightly closing his eyes when his tongue soothed the sensitive spot underneath her ear.

Without pulling away, James grasped his wand and gave it a small swish. Instantly, all of the dishes she still hadn't washed turned clean, one by one flying towards the rack placed beside the sink.

"There. All done," he said with a smirk. Hermione huffed a laugh and craned her neck to meet his lips.

"I can take you here," he groaned, pressing himself harder against Hermione's back. "Bent over the sink. So warm and ready for me. _Holy shite_."

Her cheeks flushed at his filthy words as warmth pooled in between her thighs. James's hand slowly crept underneath her blouse and palmed her uncovered breast, trapping her pebbled nipple in between his fingers. Hermione hummed her approval and furiously met his lips once more.

Sudden loud wails from their bedroom halted their activities. James groaned in frustration as Hermione laughed, reluctantly stepping away from his warm hold.

"Nice timing, Harry," the bespectacled wizard complained as Hermione reached forward and fixed his askew glasses.

"I'll check up on him," she volunteered, but James shook his head.

"Let me," he sighed. Before Hermione could protest, he'd hooked an arm around her waist and had pulled her flush against his chest. James placed a breathtaking kiss against her lips and then pulled away. There was a warning glint in his hazel eyes as he peered down at her flustered face. "This isn't over, Whiskers."

He gave her hips one last squeeze before pulling away and walking out of the kitchen.

Hermione took a few, deep breaths to calm her frantically beating heart. A snort escaped from her lips, amused that _James_ could of course distract her from whatever important agenda she had planned for tonight.

Hermione then proceeded to clean the kitchen and the living room. She did her usual ritual of double-checking the wards, before turning off the lights with another wave of her wand.

Harry had long quietened down by the time she'd walked towards their bedroom. When she crossed the threshold, her eyes widened in surprise, a soft shriek escaping her lips. "James Potter!" she admonished, clearly not expecting to see her husband waiting for her in the dark, stark naked and very confident. Her eyes strayed towards his proud member, her cheeks flushing red at how ready he was for her.

A small smirk appeared on his face as he slowly strode forward. "I told you it wasn't over," he lowly reminded. His hazel eyes glinted dangerously in the dark, prompting Hermione to thickly swallow. Her heart went into another frenzy and Merlin, _dear_ Merlin, she was afraid her heart would burst free from anticipation.

"Harry," she managed to say. "Where's Harry?" Her blue eyes landed on the crib, noting that it was empty.

"In the nursery," James reassured.

Hermione frowned in disapproval. Although Harry's room was fully furnished, with brightly painted walls and toys scattered on the floor, Hermione insisted she'd only sleep soundly if Harry was in their room. James whole-heartedly agreed because they knew Harry would be safest if he was sleeping with his parents.

"I've spelled the baby monitor to alert us immediately if Harry needs something," he promised, his smirk melting into a soft smile, recognising the worry in Hermione's eyes. "Harry is safe, love. Nothing's going to happen to him."

James had now trapped her between him and the wall. "We're going to get Harry and let him sleep in his crib here once I'm _done_ with you," he placated, already lowering his mouth to press a kiss on the junction between her neck and shoulder. "I'd rather my son doesn't have weird memories of his parents having wild, noisy sex, Hermione."

A snort flew out of her lips, prompting James to grin widely against her neck. "Berk," she muttered, craning her neck to give him more access.

He met her lips and slanted her face, allowing him to deepen the kiss until Hermione was breathless with wanton desire. James only gave her a few moments to gulp in huge breaths when he pulled away and ripped her clothes off her, until her warm skin was flush against his toned chest.

James hoisted her upwards and Hermione instantly wrapped her legs around his waist. His erection mercilessly poked against her abdomen, unforgivingly teasing her until she was mewling in protest. "Still very impatient," he murmured, his lips travelling south to catch a stiff nipple.

"You know," she breathed out. "Our bed is right there."

He snorted and shifted her slightly in his arms. "Where's the fun in that?" he cheekily asked. His tongue darted and drew lazy circles on her breast. Her grip on his hair tightened, arching her back to give him more skin to devour. James responded in kind, his lips moving furiously until she was softly begging to be relieved.

James hissed as his finger swiped against her wet folds. "I'm ready. Please, _please_ ," she pleaded. A soft moan flew out of her lips when he plunged two fingers inside, thrusting them at a slow, punishing pace but it wasn't _enough_. "Please," she begged once more, tightly clamping her thighs around his fingers just to get the proper friction she needed to get her release.

She whined when James pulled out his fingers, only to moan once more when his member entered her wet folds in one, swift thrust. She braced herself against his shoulders as he furiously plunged inside her, distractedly aware of the dirty words he whispered against her ears that brought her nearer the edge.

Just when she thought she would explode from it all, James stopped his ministrations all together. Hermione gripped his hair tighter and protested, but James fondly chuckled against her neck and pulled her away from the wall.

Without slipping out of her, he carefully brought them towards their bed. Instead of laying her down on the bed, James sat down, his back pressed against the headboard. He placed Hermione on top of his lap with such tenderness. She blinked at the contrast in how furious he'd been taking her a few moments ago.

His bright, mischievous eyes then met her gaze, his fingers digging into the skin over her pelvis. He rolled his hips upward, prompting Hermione to release a pleasant hum. With their new position, she felt marvellously filled, with James able to hit that very same sensitive spot which always drove her insane.

She desperately rocked her hips, pressing herself closer to James and meeting his lips in a furious kiss. James matched her thrusts in an eager pace and Hermione was near. _So,_ so near.

"Please," she cried.

"What do you want?" His hot breath washed over her flushed skin. "Tell me what you want, Hermione. I'll do anything for you. _Everything_. For you. Only you."

"More," she demanded. "More. More. Harder."

James suddenly pinned her down on the bed, bracing his arms against the sides of her head. Hermione slipped a finger between her thighs while James picked up his pace. With a few swipes of her finger, Hermione cried aloud as pleasure ran through every nerve in her body, leaving burning trails that made her feel very much alive.

While basking under the throes of her own pleasure, James softly pressed kisses on her skin, reverently whispering words of his devotion.

As she came back from her high, wonderfully sated, Hermione cracked her eyes open and met hazel. His pupils were blown up with desire and she prettily grinned, pulling him down so she could meet his lips.

James had picked up a dizzying pace once more for his own release. Hermione swallowed down his clipped groans, dutifully pressing kisses on his lips until he'd reached his orgasm. He quivered, spilling inside her, until he turned into jelly and plopped down on top of Hermione.

"I can't breathe!" she squeaked, prompting James to lowly rumble. He rolled off of her and buried his face against her neck to press a few, lazy kisses there.

Her murmured something under his breath and Hermione felt a familiar warmth around her abdomen. She lightly grinned, knowing James had reverently practiced how to place a Contraceptive Charm on her _wandless_ just so they could avoid another happy accident. He murmured another incantation, this time spelling them both clean.

"I love you," he sighed, draping an arm around her middle and pulling her close.

Hermione smiled and wove her fingers through his messy hair. "I love you too," she replied.

It didn't take long for James to start softly snoring, undoubtedly tired from their delightful activity. Hermione also felt very tired, but she knew she couldn't afford to sleep yet. Not when she was determined to put her plan into action if she wanted to defeat Voldemort as soon as possible.

She made sure that her husband had fallen into a deep sleep before she slipped out of his grasp. Hermione stilled, waiting to see if he would awaken, but James merely shifted on the bed and continued to sleep. She fondly smiled and grasped their duvet, draping it over his body.

Hermione quietly went towards their cabinet and pulled out denim jeans and a black shirt. After donning her clothes, she gingerly crept out of their bedroom and went straight to Harry's nursery.

Her baby was sprawled out in his crib, a gummy smile on his face. Hermione wondered what he was dreaming about, smiling fondly when Harry would lightly flail around, as if chasing something in his dream.

She gently lifted Harry into her arms and jostled him a bit. Thankfully, Harry didn't wake up.

Hermione then strode back into their bedroom and placed Harry in his bed. For a moment, she just watched her son sleep, tenderly brushing his unruly, dark hair from his forehead. "Mummy loves you very much, Harry," she whispered, bending down to press a light kiss on his forehead.

She did the same to James, whispering how much she really, truly loved him, before Hermione determinedly walked out of their bedroom.

Hermione instantly turned into her Animagus form and was about slip out of their house's backdoor when a soft meow stopped her.

She turned her head and met Snowball's inquisitive gaze, the family cat's head cocked to the side.

Snowball meowed. _"Where are you going, Mistress?"_

Hermione fully turned to meet Snowball's gaze. _"Never mind that."_

The cat looked disgruntled at her dismissal, but Hermione meowed again to placate her. _"Please take care of the boys,"_ she pleaded. _"I will be back soon."_

Snowball's eyes pierced Hermione for a moment, before she finally meowed in acknowledgement and slinked into their bedroom.

Hermione continued to sprint out of their backdoor. She slightly shivered as she passed through the strong, Fidelius Charm protecting her home. Without stopping, she determinedly ran towards the Apparation point. Hidden amongst the thickest of trees, Hermione changed into her human form and Apparated almost immediately.

She reappeared instantly just on the outskirts of Hogwarts. The whole place was still blessedly dark, but Hermione didn't want to take any chances and placed a Disillusionment Charm on herself.

She was relieved the barriers of Hogwarts allowed her to enter. She already had an inkling Dumbledore had been alerted of her presence in his school.

Hermione breezed through the vast grounds and the numerous corridors of Hogwarts until she arrived in front of the stone gargoyle, panting and very much flustered.

"Liquorice wands," she murmured. The gargoyle sprang to life and stepped out of the way, revealing the revolving staircase that would lead her to Dumbledore's Office.

Hermione stepped in and removed the charm on herself. At the same time, she composed herself and organised her thoughts, knowing full well she wouldn't leave this school until Dumbledore had completely agreed with her plan.

It didn't surprise her when she saw that Dumbledore's door was already ajar. When she pushed the door wider and went inside, Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk. There was a frown on his face, but Hermione noted that his blue eyes were impossibly twinkling.

"What are you doing here, Hermione?" he asked, a note of disapproval in his voice.

Words wanted to burst free from Hermione's mouth but she steeled herself. She had to do whatever it took for Dumbledore to agree to her plan, after all.

Taking a deep breath, her sapphire eyes met his in a determined stare.

"We need to talk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you asked me which scene in this story I can perfectly picture in my mind, I'd instantly tell you it's the bathtub scene. I can legit picture everything – from the pink bubbles to the odd angles of James's shampoo-filled hair. Y'all, if I can really decently draw, this is the first scene I'd draw. But since I'm shite at that, I'm just going to stick to my imagination ahaha.
> 
> Also, I'm not sure if an Animagus can communicate with the same species in their Animagus form but let's all just pretend that he can ahahaha.
> 
> Sorry for the cliffhanger lol. A few more chapters left!
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes)!


	55. chapter fifty-four

* * *

**xxxxxiv.**

_**salvation is coming in the morning** _

(Saint Honesty by Sara Bareilles)

* * *

**August 6, 1981**

"No."

"James—"

"I said, _no_ , Hermione!"

Rage and fear swirled inside his chest. His mind was already a jumbled mess from everything Hermione had told him, but he still could not fully grasp _why_ she was willing to sacrifice their family's safety just so they could defeat Voldemort. It didn't help his confusion and anger when he found out that she'd sneaked out of their house a few nights ago just to meet Dumbledore and tell him her plan.

Ire flared in his heart as he took a deep, shuddering breath just so he wouldn't blow his top off. Judging from Hermione's blue eyes, he knew that she understood his reaction right now but still, he didn't want to spout ridiculous things fuelled by irrational anger and fear he may later regret.

A few hours ago, Albus Dumbledore had dropped by their house. James was obviously surprised because they'd been contacting the Order leader for ages, but he'd never given them any proper reply. Dumbledore's presence and Hermione's distracted behaviour the entire morning, meant James had landed on a conclusion he knew he would never like.

Dumbledore allowed Hermione to tell James what her plan was. The Headmaster merely stayed silent, his blue eyes never leaving James's form. He didn't even flinch when James loudly refused, as though he was expecting he'd be disapproving of Hermione's plan.

"And you agreed to all of this… this _madness_?" he cried, wildly gesturing at Hermione.

It irritated him immensely how the old wizard continued to look serene despite facing a thunderous wizard. But then again, he was hailed as the greatest wizard of all time. No wonder he was the only person Voldemort truly feared. "It is a brilliant plan, if I may say so myself," he calmly answered.

James took that as a cue to stalk out of their living room, stomping towards their bedroom and slamming the door shut. A few moments passed when he heard their door creak open, his wife silently slipping inside. James wished that he was able to hold Harry right now, because at least his son gave him some semblance of peace and comfort during this difficult time.

"I'm… I'm going to see if Harry's awake," he stiffly said, already stalking towards the door, but Hermione was faster. She'd blocked his exit, a resolute glint in her eyes despite how they were swimming with tears.

"Harry's fine," she croaked. "Dumbledore volunteered to look after him until we've settled this."

"There's nothing to settle!" he thundered, hazel eyes dangerously flashing as he curled his hands into tight fists. "I've already told you what my answer is, Hermione. And no, _no_ you cannot change my mind!"

He was breathing heavily, different worst case scenarios flashing through his mind. "Why—" He thickly swallowed as desperation seeped through his angry mask. "We're safe here, Hermione. Our family is complete. No one will _die_ if we continue to stay here. Why do you want to disturb that peace? Think of Harry!"

"I _am_ thinking of Harry!" she hotly retorted in return, her tears steadily pouring down from her face. "Everything I've been doing, all the decisions I've made in this second life, _all_ of them were for Harry!"

"And you think this plan of yours will be for Harry?" he harshly spat. "What happened to the promise we made that we'd live through this bloody fucking war just so our son – _our son_ , goddamn it – will have two, very alive parents?"

Her face crumpled as she slumped forward, raw desperation on her face. "You know that Harry will never be safe if Voldemort continues to live, James," she whispered, her voice barely heard in their dark room. "And… and we may still live after the plan, after we have killedVoldemort."

"And we may fucking _die_ too, just so you know," he angrily snarled. He regretted it almost immediately when Hermione flinched, but he was too incensed and confused and bloody fucking _terrified_ to care right now.

"No one will die," she ground out with profound determination and James really, truly wanted to believe her. " _No one_. I will make sure of it."

"You can't know that for sure," he pointed out. "Everything is uncertain. The future is _uncertain_."

"I'm so tired of being uncertain!" she cried out. Her blue eyes firmly held his gaze as she continued, "and I know you're tired too, James. You're tired of hiding away when you know you can do so much outside. You're tired of not fighting tooth and nail to make this world a better place. James Potter is not meant to stay put. James Potter is meant to _fight_. But we can't do that if we continue to hide in this house."

He reached forward and grabbed her forearm, frantically peering into her eyes just so he could pour some sense into her. "But you're asking to _die_ ," he sobbed, belatedly realising that tears had now tumbled out from his hazel eyes. "This plan of yours – it could be a death sentence, Hermione. And I can't— without _you_ , in my life… why do you have to sacrifice yourself?"

Her tears increased as she gingerly placed a palm against his wet cheeks. "I'm not going to die either," she reassured steadfastly.

"Hermione—"

"Do you regret this, James?" she quietly continued, cutting him off from whatever futile attempt he was going to make to change her mind. "All of this. Harry… _me_?"

He took a deep, shuddering breath. "How can you even ask me that?" he firmly asked. "I love you. I love you so much, Hermione. You and Harry… you're both the best things that have ever happened to me."

"But everything you have had to endure—"

"I love you," he simply repeated, as if it was the surest thing in his whole world.

The corners of her eyes crinkled when a small, sad smile appeared on her face. More tears slipped down from her eyes as she cupped his other cheek with her free hand. "Then trust me, James," she insisted. "I've thought this through for months. I've crafted a lot of back up plans in case the primary plan blew out of proportion. Dumbledore reassured me there would be a lot of back up when the time comes." She neared her face and pressed her forehead against his. " _Trust me_ , love. Everything will be better soon."

He quivered against her touch, tightly closing his eyes as he pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. "There's really no stopping you," he murmured against her voluminous hair.

She curled her hand at the back of his neck and lightly shook her head. "I'm sorry, James," she whispered in return.

He wasn't sure for how long he held Hermione in his arms. When she pulled away and led him back outside, he didn't put up a fight anymore.

When they arrived back in the living room, it disconcerted him a bit at how Dumbledore was spelling Harry's toys to dance mid-air, much to the delight of the child. Harry was standing on his tiptoes, trying to grasp his floating toys, and giggling when he missed a step and fell flat on his bum.

Dumbledore calmly stood up when the couple came back, pointedly ignoring their swollen eyes and tearstained faces. At the same time, his spell on the toys wore off and Harry laughingly caught his favourite stag stuffed toy, triumphantly grinning at the older wizard.

"He agrees," Hermione said, tightly squeezing James's hand.

He may or may not have imagined how the Headmaster's shoulders slumped in relief. "Very good, James," he said.

"I have one condition, though," he insisted. He ignored Hermione's questioning gaze while he took a deep breath. "I'll be in this house when that day comes too."

"But—"

"I already agreed, Hermione," he tightly replied. "The least I can do is continue to stay by your side. Until the _end_."

Her eyes swam with tears, and it was obvious she disapproved of his condition. But then, to his relief, she lightly sighed. "I knew you'd insist on being there."

James determinedly nodded his head and glanced back at Dumbledore. "Everything she planned must be followed to the dot," he demanded, never mind that he was talking to the leader of the resistance and a wizard that was practically as respectable as Merlin himself. "If at least one thing isn't followed, if… if there's even a slight blip, then I'm going to hunt you down."

Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled. "You have my word, James," he promised.

* * *

**September 30, 1981**

Severus Snape always knew Hermione Pettigrew would be a pain in his arse. The moment Lily had taken her under her wing, he knew his life wouldn't be the same anymore. Lily was already a handful; imagine adding another incorrigible, _stubborn_ woman to their group.

When he was young, he thought Lily was enough. She was his first friend; they shared numerous afternoons away from their troubled homes, practicing magic and discovering wondrous spells they didn't know they were capable of producing. It didn't really surprise him when he walked towards their usual meeting place and realised that he was, without any fraction of a doubt, very much in love with the fiery redhead. Everything else around him didn't matter.

What surprised him, though, was that he was capable of accepting Hermione as one of his friends. As a Half-Blood Slytherin, he was wary of new acquaintances, constantly wondering what underlying ulterior motives somebody had when he or she wanted to become an acquaintance. Hermione Pettigrew was different, though; through the years, he'd seen how she genuinely wanted to hang out with them and study with them. It was inevitable, now that he'd properly thought about it, that he'd become quite fond of the swotty brunette.

For years, he thought Lily was enough, but once the prophecy had been revealed, he realised he couldn't imagine his life without his best friend in it either.

Thus, becoming her family's Secret Keeper didn't need too much thinking. It was the least he could do, after everything Hermione had done for him and Lily.

And now… now _this._

Merlin and Morgana, Hermione Pettigrew – well, _Potter_ – was truly a pain in the arse.

Severus's thoughts were brought back to reality when he ventured out of their quaint house at Spinner's End. The magic of the Fidelius Charm was palpable from where he stood, and he wondered what his neighbours had thought when he and Lily suddenly announced a well-crafted lie about moving across the globe. But then again, no one really bothered with each other in this town. Sev doubted his neighbours were worried about the eccentric Snapes.

He shivered as a cold breeze danced against his cheeks. Autumn was steadily making an appearance, and Sev hoped this war would not stretch on until the end of winter. Dumbledore had assured them that with this plan now set in motion, for all they know, Voldemort would be dead by Halloween. The way Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled with so much sureness, so much _hope_ , made Sev believe in him.

"What are you doing outside?" he heard his wife call him.

Sev lightly smiled and closed the door behind him. When he turned around, he quirked an eyebrow at Lily's dishevelled look. "Looks like somebody needs a bath," he pointed out.

Lily snorted and swiped her face, managing to drag the flour dusted on her nose onto her cheeks. "Later," she said. "After our Secret Keeper arrives. I still need to bake more treacle tarts."

His eyebrows flew up to his hairline. "I thought you baked some a while ago?" he asked.

His wife cracked a small, shaky smile. "They're not enough, darling," she said, followed by a soft laugh. "Not enough."

His heart painfully clenched at how her emerald eyes shone with suppressed tears. He remembered, clear as day, when Lily immediately said 'yes' to Dumbledore's order for them to be placed under the Fidelius Charm. _"If it will help bring Voldemort down, if it will help_ Hermione _in any way, then yes, Albus. We'll do it."_ Lily's ferocious answer was enough to sway him, as he too loudly proclaimed his agreement.

Regrettably, both of the Snapes had to leave work for an indefinite period of time. Slughorn had assured him he'd become the new Potions Master once he returned. Lily's boss covered up her absence by saying that she'd been asked to travel to an obscure country in Southeast Asia for further training. Both of their lives had been brought to a standstill, all for Hermione, and Sev knew that neither he, nor Lily, regretted their current decision.

 _All for Hermione_.

Their eyes snapped towards the fireplace when it roared emerald green. Sev waved his wand to let the wards down, allowing their Secret Keeper to stumble inside.

James Potter looked terrible. Sev wasn't prepared to behold his former classmate – former _bully_ – looking so gaunt and tired and so, _so_ not him. He looked older than twenty-one, with dark smudges under his dull, hazel eyes and a face the palest he had ever seen.

Sev's eyes then landed on the bundle on his arm, Potter's hand still partially covering the baby's nose to prevent him from inhaling soot. The baby was wide awake and squirming in his arms, and Potter had to shift him into a more comfortable position.

Harry had grown. The last time he'd seen him, he was still so terribly small. But now, he looked healthy, with full cheeks and plump, pink lips. His curly, raven-coloured hair had grown longer too, the ends coiling behind his ears. His blue eyes still looked exactly like Hermione's, and Sev felt his heart quivering a bit, realising that it had been a while since he'd seen his best friend.

"How's Hermione?" he heard himself blurting out. He ignored Lily's wary glare, no doubt thinking he was being rude for not properly greeting the wizard. Sev rolled his eyes and frowned at the bespectacled wizard. They all knew he didn't care about James Potter at all, so why the hell did he need to pretend to be amicable?

"She's…" Potter's voice cracked as a small, shaky smile appeared on his face. "She's okay."

Judging from Potter's face, Hermione was nowhere near okay. He grimaced and still nodded his head in the end, not wanting to probe further and prolong his interaction with this toerag.

"I brought Harry," James then lamely said, striding forwards and depositing his baby into Sev's arms without warning. The Auror extended a baby bag into Lily's awaiting hands, murmuring a soft 'thank you' when Lily gave him a small smile.

"P-please," Lily stuttered, her green eyes shining with tears. "Please. Tell Hermione she has to come back alive." She pierced Potter with the fiercest glare she could muster. " _Both_ of you."

An almost inhumane smile stretched wide on James's face. "Yeah, yeah, okay," he said. His eyes barely strayed towards his son, as he murmured another 'goodbye' to the couple and almost immediately turned away and walked towards the Floo.

Sev and Lily exchanged glances, wondering why Potter was acting like he wanted to leave as soon as possible. At the same time, Harry in Sev's arms stirred and blinked open his blue eyes. The small boy then realised his father wasn't holding him anymore and started to make a fuss.

Harry craned his neck in search for his father and once he saw James, he extended his arms and opened and closed his hands. "Dada! No!" he sobbed, big, fat tears welling in his clear, blue eyes. "Dada! No!"

James's shoulders tensed and he whipped around so fast Sev wondered if he'd given himself a whiplash. The bespectacled wizard's hazel eyes were wide and shining, his jaw opening and closing like a fish out of water. "What… what did he just say?" he breathlessly asked.

Sev slowly knitted his eyebrows, unsure why Potter looked like he'd faint soon. "'Dada, no', I believe," Lily whispered, equally curious herself.

"Dada! No!" Harry echoed, still trying to reach out for James.

In three, big strides, Potter was in front him and pulling Harry back into his arms. "You menace!" he cried as tears slipped past his eyes. Sev's eyes widened because he'd never seen James Potter cry before. He doubted the incorrigible wizard who'd used to bully him would even allow himself to show this side to Sev. Nevertheless, there was a steady stream of tears leaking from his eyes as he cradled Harry to his chest. "Why'd you have to say that word for the first time _today_ , of all bloody days?"

"Language," Sev absentmindedly sniped.

James's gaze flew back towards Sev. His eyes widened, seemingly realising he wasn't alone with his son. He hastily swiped his tears away as his cheeks turned splotchy red. "Err… sorry about that," he muttered, unable to meet Sev's dark eyes. "Harry has never called me 'Dada' before so umm… I just got a bit excited." His glance shifted back onto Harry and he proudly grinned at his son. The baby had long quietened down now that he was back in his father's arms, his blue eyes slowly slipping closed. "I promised to drop him off and leave as soon as possible without making a fuss. It would be easier for me to do that but then…"

His words died down as more tears welled up in his eyes. Beside Sev, Lily took a mighty sniff and tried to clamp her lips together to stop herself from bursting into loud sobs.

"Lily," Sev called, reaching forwards to clutch her elbow. She met his eyes and instantly understood what he was trying to relay.

His wife hastily nodded her head and wiped her tears away. She then proceeded to disappear into their kitchen, only to come back with a small plate of treacle tart. "Look, Harry. Look what Auntie Lily made you," the redhead cooed. James's met Lily's eyes as the witch extended her other arm to reach for the sleepy baby.

Potter reluctantly transferred Harry into Lily's hold. When Harry started to fuss again, Lily shoved a small piece of treacle into Harry's hand. "Your Mummy told me you love treacle tarts, you sweet, sweet boy," she cooed, grinning brightly when Harry's blue eyes lit up in recognition and started cramming the dessert into his mouth. "I've made plenty to last you a lifetime."

"Don't feed him too many sweets," James seriously said. "It'll upset his stomach."

Lily gave James a kind smile. "I won't," she said. "I promise." Her eyes then landed back on Sev, her smile turning forlorn. It still struck him how pretty Lily looked with the babe in her arms. The vision he'd seen when Lily had first held Harry in her arms, with a baby that perhaps had his face and Lily's red hair and eyes, swam back into his mind once more. His heart leapt into his throat, hoping against hope that they'd survive this war so that they could build a family of their own.

The redhead quietly excused himself and distracted Harry with more treacle tart. The boy was gurgling happily, chanting one-worded replies to Lily's questions as they finally disappeared into the kitchen. Thankfully, Harry didn't throw another tantrum.

"I'm… I'm leaving this. For Harry."

Sev blinked and returned his gaze back towards James. He looked embarrassed once more, while extending a folded cloth and parchment towards him.

"In case we didn't…"

He trailed off, but his hazel eyes held meaning. Sev scowled. "You're going to survive this bloody war, Potter," he disdainfully spat.

Normally, such tone of voice would elicit irrational anger from the reckless Gryffindor. However, James merely cracked a wobbly grin and it disconcerted Sev greatly. "Just in case," he insisted. He shook the cloth and parchment, waiting for Sev to finally clutch it. He sighed and relented, grasping the things from Potter's hands.

"What are these things?" he asked.

"Ah, well, Harry will know soon enough once he's of age."

Sev snorted at his dubious answer. No doubt these were tools used by this incorrigible wizard and his equally annoying friends for their mischief-making during their youth.

Potter started to look awkward, looking as though he wanted to say something else, something _more_ , and Sev wondered why he wouldn't just leave. His son might start another tantrum and he should take this opportunity to slip away.

"Look, Snape…" Sev quirked an eyebrow when two, bright red spots appeared on the Pureblood's cheekbones. Potter seemed adamant not to meet his eyes. "I – err – I know my friends and I were atrocious to you back in school and I never really properly… umm… you know."

Sev's eyes grew wide, his face turning sickly green as he realised what the other wizard was trying to do. "Merlin and Morgana, Potter. Please _spare_ me," he grumbled as he made a face.

James lightly glared, his cheeks turning redder. "I might not have another chance in the future, so just shut up and listen, yeah?" he snapped.

Sev snorted and bared his teeth. "That's not the attitude you should be sporting if you're trying to apologise for something, Potter," he spat.

The bespectacled wizard looked properly shamefaced. He took a deep, shuddering breath and glanced heavenward, trying to compose himself. When his hazel eyes met Sev's dark ones once more, there was pure determination and real earnestness in them. "You're right," he weakly said. He took another deep breath and cracked a small smile. "But Snape, I'm… I'm really sorry for everything we did to you back at school. Me, _especially_. I was the most atrocious of us all and I didn't—I wasn't sure why I liked bullying you the most."

Potter paused and removed his glasses. He ran a hand over his tired face as a sigh escaped from his lips. "Merlin, I was a real brat," he said with an embarrassed chuckle. "I don't even know why Hermione fell in love with me. I don't deserve her at all."

"No, you don't," Sev snapped without much thought. " _You_ don't."

Instead of getting offended, his smile turned really despondent and Sev didn't like it at all. "No, I don't," he repeated, his eyes turning glassy once again. "But she bloody _loves_ me. Merlin knows why."

He paused for a moment to discreetly wipe a few errant tears from his eyes. Once he was more composed, James met his eyes again. "I know apologising isn't enough for everything I did to you back at Hogwarts," he continued. "But I guess… I guess it's a first step, yeah?"

Sev, unsure of what to reply, merely stiffly nodded his head.

Potter's smile turned warmer and soft. "I'd like to take this opportunity too to thank you." He awkwardly rubbed his chin. "Admittedly, I was wary about you becoming our Secret Keeper but Hermione trusts you with her whole heart. And now I completely understand that you did it for _her_ , because she'd been a great friend."

His heart ached at the mention of Hermione, wondering when he'd be able to see her again.

"I should… I should probably go," Potter then said, chancing a brief glance at his wristwatch. "Harry might throw a tantrum again and it'll be harder for me to go." He expelled a shaky laugh, prompting more tears to slip down from his eyes. He then extended his hand and curled his fingers. "The address, Snape."

"Right," he quipped, slipping a hand inside his pocket to pull out the crumpled parchment containing the bewitched address of the Potters. Sev was very much tempted to withhold this piece of paper that would change _everything_ , but he knew Lily – and even Potter, _Merlin_ – would throw a fit if he continued being stubborn. He passed it onto James, who held it like his life depended on it.

Potter stood awkwardly, now unsure of what he was going to do. "Take care—" He thickly swallowed and breathed through his nose, his hazel eyes impossibly glinting with more unshed tears. "Take care of my son," he said, voice now barely above a whisper. "He's a… he's a brilliant boy. He deserves to be surrounded with so much love."

He knew it was uncharacteristic of him, and blimey he still didn't like James Potter, but he was compelled to give him a small, reassuring smile. The bloke looked like he needed his assurance. "Come back alive, Potter," Sev said. "Then you and Hermione can smother him with your unwavering love."

Potter good-naturedly laughed and it disconcerted Sev because for a moment, he felt like they'd been conversing like proper, old friends. The bespectacled wizard bid his goodbye and stumbled into the fireplace, disappearing in a brief flash of emerald green.

He wasn't sure for how long he stood like an idiot in the living room once Potter had gone.

"Sev?"

He lightly shook his head to dispel the bizarreness of it all, before glancing at his wife. "Yes?" he asked.

Lily's eyes widened. Then, tears welled up in her eyes as she strode closer to him. Harry was still happily munching on treacle tart, already making a mess on his chubby cheeks.

"Oh, my love," she said, reaching forward to touch his face. "Everything will be all right."

Sev huffed a disbelieving laugh, wondering what face he was making when James Potter was still standing in his house. Then, he wrapped his arm around Lily's waist and buried his face against her neck, seeking comfort and hoping for the best.

**-ooo-**

Hermione was curled on the couch in front of their fireplace when James came back. She perked up at his arrival, her blue eyes wide and glistening with tears. "Harry?" she managed to croak out.

"He's safe," he placated, absentmindedly brushing soot off his robes. "Evans is already feeding him treacle tart." A wide, goofy smile appeared on his face. "He called me 'Dada' today! _Merlin_ , I kept on telling him to start calling me that instead of 'berk', but Harry's been mighty stubborn. I wonder where he got that from…"

His wife expelled a watery chuckle.

James removed his glasses and wiped his errant tears away. He then strode towards the couch and plopped down beside the brunette. Hermione shifted on her seat and opened her arms, allowing James to bury his face against her neck. He took a deep, shuddering breath, tightening his hold around her as the reality of their situation grew heavy.

This was it. Phase one of their plan was now complete. Harry was already far away from them, hidden with the Snapes while placed under the Fidelius Charm. In only a few weeks, he and Hermione would face off against the vilest wizard the Wizarding World had ever known.

"I love you," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss against her neck.

Hermione's fingers wove through his messy hair. "I love you too, James," she whispered in return.

The Potters perked up when their front door opened. Albus Dumbledore strode inside and looked at them, a serious glint in his normally twinkling blue eyes. "Is Harry safely delivered to the Snapes?" he asked.

"Yes, Headmaster Dumbledore," James replied.

The Order leader's lips stretched into a small smile before extending his hand. "The address, if you please," he continued. James slowly stood up from his seat and placed the crumpled parchment on Dumbledore's upturned hand. "Thank you, James." His blue eyes quickly darted towards Hermione, then back at her husband. "I wish you both good luck. If something comes up, contact me immediately."

James mutely nodded his head.

Dumbledore gave them a long stare, his face looking old, weary, and forlorn. Above all, however, was blatant hope on his face – hope, that with Hermione's plan, they would be able to defeat Voldemort and rid the Wizarding World of his presence.

The great wizard then disappeared with a 'pop', leaving the two Potters alone.

* * *

**October 15, 1981**

They all looked like shite. Well, in his defence, Peter felt like shite too and he didn't doubt the others felt the same. Even their normally composed Order leader looked out-of-sorts, like he was preparing for a battle with heavy uncertainties weighing on his shoulders.

Peter didn't like the look on Dumbledore's face and forced himself to glance at the other people in the Order of the Phoenix Headquarters. It was only him, Remus and Sirius with Dumbledore today, as this new plan concocted by his sister was something Dumbledore did not wish to divulge with the other Order members besides those closely involved with the Potters. Normally, Lily and Snape would be there too, but seeing they were now under the Fidelius Charm with his nephew, they were currently indisposed.

They were only waiting for one more person now. Peter was feeling close to insanity because of the wait and the unbearable silence, but try as he might, he couldn't bring himself to form proper words. Even his best mates weren't in a chatty mood. Remus looked like he'd reverted back to his pre-Wolfsbane Potion self, his scars starker on his very pale face. Sirius, on the other hand, was busy staring daggers at the top of the round, wooden table in the East Tower.

Just then, the familiar knocking rhythm broke through their tense silence. The door swung open and Regulus Black stiffly strode inside. He looked the worst of all of them; Regulus seemed like he hadn't been sleeping well for the past few days. Beside him, Sirius curled his hands into fists and refused to lift his mercurial eyes to greet his brother.

"Regulus," Dumbledore softly said. "Welcome."

The Death Eater tipped his head to acknowledge his greeting and sat down on an empty chair a few meters away from the Marauders.

"Any news?" the Headmaster smoothly said, interlacing his fingers together and leaning back against his chair.

"Voldemort is growing rigorous. Like I've said before, the other Death Eaters had almost caught the Longbottoms' Secret Keeper. But still, they're safely hidden," Regulus mechanically reported. "Voldemort is convinced the Potters are hidden away in Godric's Hollow, though. The number of Death Eaters he has deployed in that area has increased." Peter took a sharp intake of breath, fear now mercilessly gripping his heart. "I've alerted Potter through the Protean Charm and they've been on high alert ever since."

Dumbledore nodded his head. "Very good," he softly replied. "And Tom doesn't plan for any attack yet?"

"As far as I know, there aren't any plans," he deliberately answered, his grey eyes filling with worry and frustration. "I try to slip into as many meetings as I can, but so far none of my, well, _colleagues_ , have figured out who the Potters' Secret Keeper is."

The smile Dumbledore cracked almost looked eerie. "Everything's going according to plan," he slowly drawled, a dark shadow now obscuring whatever expression he was making on his face.

"I still think this plan is a huge load of bullshite," Regulus spat, followed by a huge, exhausted sigh. "But… but this is _Pettigrew_ we are talking about. She always comes up with the most reckless of plans and come out successful in the end."

Peter was unable to suppress a snort, knowing full well his sister would be stubborn about this. He met Regulus's amused eyes and sheepishly smiled.

"Will this plan really work?" Remus then asked, worry heard clearly in his voice. "I mean… it seems a bit foolish, don't you think?"

"Oh, very foolish, indeed," Dumbledore amicably said, flashing an indulgent smile at the werewolf. Remus deeply frowned and bristled on his seat, prompting Dumbledore's eyes to soften in understanding. "Nothing is certain in this war, Remus. All we need to do is to hope that Mrs. Potter's plan will be a success."

Peter couldn't stop himself from snorting once more, thinking that it sounded almost ridiculous for Dumbledore to address his sister as 'Mrs. Potter'. He was mortified when Dumbledore's blue eyes pierced him with a firm stare. "Sorry," he quickly murmured.

The older wizard quirked an eyebrow before looking at the silent shaggy-haired Auror. "I've already talked to Alastor and he agrees with the plan," he continued. "Sirius and Remus, I believe you'll be deployed to scour the perimeter of Godric's Hollow, making sure none of the Death Eaters make a ruckus and ruin our plan. Once the fateful day arrives, I expect you'll both be ready to fight in case things don't go according to plan."

Sirius deeply scowled. "Yes, Professor Dumbledore. But—"

"No."

"But, sir—"

"I have already said that under no circumstances can you visit the Potters, Sirius," he firmly ordered, his blue eyes turning steely behind his half-moon spectacles. "It is still quite dangerous. If we want everybody to be alive after all of this, it is best if we stick to our roles."

"And what if _they_ die?" Sirius thundered, jumping from his seat and managing to knock over his chair. He pointed a finger towards Regulus but still kept his eyes firmly locked on a calm Dumbledore. "My brother was right – this plan is a load of _bullshite_! How can you even agree to this? Hermione and James… _James_ , my best mate, he might—"

Sirius's breath hitched, unable to finish his sentence. He turned his face away to hide his tears, but everybody in the Order Headquarters saw how his silver eyes shone. Peter felt his eyes prickling with tears too, as the enormity of Hermione's plan came crashing down upon his shoulders. He wanted to trust Hermione, because she'd always been so level-headed and precise when it came to planning things. But then, he'd remember their skirmish back at the cave and how she'd almost _died_. Peter didn't know if he'd be able to take it, unable to intervene immediately once Hermione faced off with Voldemort once and for all.

He miserably slumped in his seat and swiped his tears away. Remus had rightened Sirius's chair and had pulled him back so he was sitting again. Out of the corner of Peter's eyes, he saw how Regulus shot Sirius a look of worry, but still kept himself in place, unsure how to comfort his distressed brother.

"I understand the worry in your hearts," Dumbledore placated with a small, sad smile. "But again, if we want everybody to be _alive_ and _safe_ in the end, we have to stick to our roles. Am I making myself clear, Sirius?"

Sirius's jaw tensed, unwilling to meet Dumbledore's piercing gaze.

"Am I making myself clear?" the Order leader repeated, this time firmer and resolute.

The shaggy-haired Auror took a deep, shuddering breath before giving him a clipped nod.

"All right," the old wizard said. "As I was saying, you and Remus will be deployed around Godric's Hollow to make sure none of the Death Eaters make a ruckus." His blue eyes then swept towards Regulus. "Report back any new plans from Voldemort, Regulus. If everything goes according to plan, he will attack on the thirty-first of October. Communicate with the Potters _only_ through the charmed coins."

"Yes, sir," Regulus said, nodding in understanding.

Finally, Dumbledore's eyes landed on Peter. "As for you, Peter Pettigrew, you have the most difficult role of us all," he declared.

Peter's heart loudly thudded inside his ribcage. He was hoping that Dumbledore had been joking when he'd told him before what his role in Voldemort's demise would be, because _surely_ there would be someone much more capable than he… like _Moody_. "F-frankly, Dumbledore," he stuttered, trying his very best to dispel his terror, but was unable to do so, "I don't think I'm fit for the job. It's… it's _too_ huge. I'm not… I'm not as good as Sirius or Remus. Maybe it's better if you give that job to them instead. I can accompany either one of them to scour the perimeter of Godric's Hollow and keep the Death Eaters in place. Just- just not _this_ job."

The Headmaster merely stared at him for a few moments. Peter was slowly becoming uncomfortable under his unwavering gaze, but he felt like it would be disrespectful to shift his gaze away.

"Why do you think you're not capable of this job, Peter?" he coolly asked.

Unable to stop himself, a snort tumbled from his lips. "You taught me for _seven years_ ," he pointed out incredulously. "Surely, you already know I'm not up to par with my friends and my sister."

"Peter," Remus sniped reproachfully.

"Well, it's true, isn't it?" Peter snapped, glaring at Remus and Sirius. "I still don't understand why you allowed me to keep on trailing behind you."

"Because you're our bloody fucking friend, Wormy, what the hell," Sirius cried, his eyes dangerously flashing. "How can you even think you're not on par with us?"

Remus sighed and rubbed his temples, a deep frown now on his face. "Is that what you've always thought?" he slowly asked. "That you don't belong in our group?"

Peter glanced down at his hands, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Oh bloody Merlin, he _does_ think that," Sirius ground out. "Peter, mate, listen, your name is written on the bloody _Map_. You became an Animagus almost at the same time as we did. You became an _Auror_ with your own skills. I can't believe you— you—" Sirius let his words dangle, furiously gesticulating with his hands to relay what he was truly thinking.

"You know," Regulus suddenly drawled, "if Pettigrew was here right now, she'd smack that idiotic head of yours and tell you to have a little faith in yourself."

Peter's eyes widened. "You remember that?" he asked.

Regulus snorted. "I almost _died_ that day," he reminded him. "Of course I remember everything that had happened."

In spite of himself, Peter sputtered out a laugh even though a few tears escaped from his eyes.

"You managed to save us that day, Pettigrew," Regulus continued, prompting the sandy-haired wizard's eyes to snap back towards him. "Your sister told me everything that happened and one thing we both agree on, is that if you hadn't insisted on coming with us, we'd both be Inferi today."

The Black heir then managed to show a small smile that was uncharacteristic on his usually aloof face. He leaned closer and continued, "Do this for your sister. For _Hermione_. She trusts you with her whole heart. Why do you think she wanted you to do this role in the end? She knows you'll be able to do it."

Regulus's words rang wildly inside his ears, slithering into his mind and heart until it was all he could think about. Hermione did nothing but trust and love him, even though he'd continuously doubted himself over the years. It still broke his heart how another version of him had caused the deaths of people he'd once considered his very best friends and… and he couldn't _accept_ that. If he was going to be the cause of James's death – of _Hermione's_ death, Merlin Almighty – he would never forgive himself.

Thus, with a resolute nod, he took a sharp intake of breath and glanced back at Dumbledore. "Tell me what to do," he firmly replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phase one of Hermione's plan is complete lmao. The entirety of the whole plan will be revealed tomorrow. I mean, I've dropped clues hahah – Sev, the Secret Keeper of the Potters voluntarily surrendering the bewitched parchment, and Peter, with the most important role of them all. Any guesses?
> 
> Also, good news, I'm already done writing the epilogue. I just sent it to my Beta, though, but I'm not sure when she'd email the edited version back since we're both busy with our own lives hahahaha. But yeah, basically, we only have two chapters left for this story.
> 
> To all those who still stayed despite the odd and seemingly disbelieving choices I've made for this story, thank you very, very much ahahahaha y'all the best.
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes)! I'm shite with answering reviews but I do answer the messages sent to me over tumblr and zomg your words warm my heart.


	56. chapter fifty-five

* * *

**xxxxxv.**

_**and darkness will be rewritten** _

(I'll Keep You Safe by Sleeping at Last)

* * *

**October 29, 1981**

Voldemort firmly believed he was leading a bunch of imbeciles.

His order was simple – find the Potters and the Longbottoms, and kill their sons. It wasn't the hardest order he'd given to his Death Eaters and yet, September soon bled into October. Still, there was no sign of either family. He knew they were smart enough to hide under the Fidelius Charm, but finding their Secret Keeper had been futile. No matter how persistent he'd become in deploying more Death Eaters in search of a possible lead, he could still not discover who their Secret Keepers were.

All the Dark Lord could think about was the prophecy and the fact that most likely, Harry Potter or Neville Longbottom would be the one to cause his downfall. And he surely, _surely_ could not accept that. He'd worked hard just to be where he was right now. He'd sacrificed too much and lost a lot of himself along the way. A mere _baby_ could not destroy that.

Despite numerous Cruciatus curses, his followers never gave him any useful information. Loath was he to admit it, but Voldemort was growing desperate.

"My Lord."

He curled his hands into tight fists, annoyed at being bothered during one of his times of solitude. He directed his glaring eyes at his insolent follower, but then paused upon seeing Regulus Black standing in front of him. The young, Black heir wasn't part of his inner circle. Usually, the young Death Eater would keep to himself in their meetings, standing at the side-lines while he let the other, more experienced Death Eaters converse with the Dark Lord. Seeing him here today, willingly seeking an audience, surprised him greatly.

"My Lord, I bring you good news."

The young wizard looked nervous, yet confident and resolute. Other Death Eaters his age usually cowered in his presence, choosing to blend into the shadows and make themselves as invisible as possible. Regulus Black, apparently, was a delightful exception.

"Come forward," he then finally said, gesturing Regulus to come closer.

The Black heir stiffly followed and once he was at a decent distance, he stopped. Wordlessly, he pocketed his hand and pulled out a crumpled piece of parchment. Voldemort warily eyed the seemingly unimposing paper in his hand, a small frown now stretching on his pale face.

"It recently came to my knowledge that the Potters' Secret Keeper was Peter Pettigrew, my Lord," Regulus said. A mocking scoff escaped from his lips, clear disbelief in his silver eyes. "We've done your bidding. We've constantly followed those who were close to the Potter family. Frankly, if I may be so bold, choosing Peter Pettigrew as their Secret Keeper seemed terribly obvious."

"And yet, you've only managed to discover that after _months_ of their hiding," Voldemort hissed. It gave him some grim satisfaction when Regulus flinched.

"Dumbledore and the resistance knew we were looking for the Secret Keeper," Regulus reasoned out. "Everybody is on high alert. You—"

" _Silence_ ," he boomed. Quickly then, his wand was in his hand, a soft _'Crucio'_ escaping from his lips.

The young wizard screamed in agony and was brought onto his knees. He'd only kept the spell running for mere seconds, but once he'd removed it, there were already beads of sweat on Regulus's forehead.

"F-forgive me, my Lord," Regulus said, forcing himself back onto his feet. He then weakly extended his hand, the crumpled parchment sitting on top of his upturned palm. "I managed to get the location of the Potters' hiding place."

Voldemort slowly frowned. He knew about the complex magic of the Fidelius Charm and its restrictions. If Regulus had forcefully stolen the bewitched parchment from the Secret Keeper, it wouldn't work at all. "And what of the Secret Keeper?" he sniped.

Despite his pale face and slight shaking from the Cruciatus, a sinister smirk appeared on the Black heir's face. "Peter Pettigrew has been dealt with. He put up a fight, but I prevailed in the end." His silver eyes melted into dangerous mercury as Regulus dared to take a few more steps toward his master. "You need not worry, my Lord. The cowardly buffoon voluntarily surrendered the Potters' location."

A feral grin slowly grew on Voldemort's face. He didn't even mind when Regulus slightly flinched and backpedalled a bit when he quickly strode towards him. Voldemort snatched the parchment away from his hand and glanced at it – _The Potter Cottage is at Number 27, Godric's Hollow._

Utmost relief spread throughout his veins. "You've done well," he said. Voldemort then slowly walked back to his chair and sat back down.

"Well then, Regulus," he silkily said, calmly interlacing his fingers. "Perhaps, it is time for me to pay them a visit."

* * *

**October 30, 1981**

"Master Regulus is expected in the Dining Hall for breakfast," Kreacher croaked, popping into his bedroom.

"Very well, Kreacher. Thank you," Regulus replied, ignoring the curious glint in his house-elf's eyes. He knew it was mighty suspicious that he was awake already - before Kreacher had come to wake him up. But, after everything that had happened last night, Regulus was at his wit's end.

He still firmly believed that this whole plan was _bloody fucking_ insane. He wasn't sure if Pettigrew had been thinking properly when she'd concocted this ridiculous plan. Perhaps, being cooped up in a house with no one else besides her idiotic husband and their child had driven her insane. He really, _truly_ wanted to protest that things would not end well if at least one of them wasn't able to properly do their roles. 'Not end well', meaning, Hermione Pettigrew— _'Potter'_ — would _die_ and Regulus, for the life of him, could not accept that.

But Dumbledore had his utmost trust on whatever ill-conceived plan Hermione had concocted, even adding a few ridiculous embellishments of his own just to make everything work. Who was he to defy the leader of the resistance? Dumbledore may be a better madman than Voldemort in all ways but _still_ , he was a bloody madman. Regulus did not want to imagine what Dumbledore would do to him if he cowardly ran away instead of sticking to his role.

Besides, he owed this much to Hermione. No, _scratch that_. He owed _everything_ to her. If she hadn't been an annoying, terrifying witch, persistently poking her nose into his business even when he'd made it clear numerous times before she should just fuck off, then Regulus knew he'd be an Inferius, swimming around the dark lake back at that stupid cave.

' _Damn you, Pettigrew,'_ he thought, his fingers climbing up to his temples to ease his throbbing headache away. A part of him still cursed the strange stirrings in his heart that were evoked merely by Hermione's presence. He'd long accepted this certain fascination he'd had with Hermione Pettigrew back in their fourth year had bloomed into something more, but of course it was ridiculous now since she was married to James _fucking_ Potter.

' _Damn you,_ Potter _,'_ he thought with a dark scowl, hauling himself out of his armchair and striding out of his bedroom. If Potter hadn't gotten to Hermione first, she wouldn't be in this situation at all!

He knew it would have been better if he'd kept his distance when she started dating the git, but Hermione… Hermione had been really kind and bright. She offered this stupid hope that he'd long given up once he became Branded with the vilest mark he'd ever known. Although he admittedly wanted to be closer to her, Regulus told himself being her friend was enough. It was a hard fact to accept, but if he wanted to still be a part of Hermione's life, then he had no choice but to be just that. A friend.

' _You know what? Damn you instead, Regulus Black,'_ a voice hissed inside his head.

His foul mood followed him until he'd arrived at the Dining Hall of Grimmauld Place. He made a face, wondering why the whole place still felt cold despite the roaring fire behind Walburga Black. After spending much of his time at Potter Manor, Grimmauld Place was steadily becoming drearier and gloomier for him. Regulus couldn't wait to get out of here today and report to the Headquarters once more.

"Good morning, Mother," he coolly greeted, sitting in the empty chair on Walburga's left. His mother gave him a slight tilt of her head and continued to sip her tea.

"Slept well, Regulus?" she asked.

The Black heir blinked his eyes. Walburga never engaged him in small talk; she deemed it beneath her and only chose to speak when the need arose. She'd always been a chatty bat, sniping sharp words that Regulus had long been immune to. He still remembered all those eventful meals he'd shared with his mother and brother, his eardrums almost bleeding from the shrill shrieks from Walburga.

Ever since Orion had died, however, his mother had become… well, _subdued_. This had startled Regulus immensely because he used to think his parents merely tolerated each other for the sake of keeping the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black intact. Orion was the Head of the Black family after all. Reputation and appearances were everything.

But perhaps, there was at least some level of affection shared between his parents. Regulus wasn't too sure, especially now that he'd been spending less and less time in Grimmauld Place due to his double life as a Death Eater and Order member. He really had no time to deal with his _complicated_ family.

"Well?" Walburga repeated, quirking an eyebrow whilst her lips curled into a small sneer.

' _Ah yes, the Mother I know and love,'_ he thought, slightly grimacing, before pasting a small, pleasant smile on his face. "Very well, Mother," he replied. "I hope you did too?"

"Oh, _very_ ," she huffed with an expression that almost looked like a _smile_. Regulus's couldn't stop his eyes from widening. Walburga then pushed the latest edition of the Daily Prophet towards him. "You were here last night, weren't you, my dear?"

Regulus's heart wildly thudded inside his ribcage as he glanced down at the newspaper. Splashed on the front page was the familiar neighbourhood where the Pettigrews lived. Overhead, the ominous Dark Mark glowed, the snake slithering out from the skull. He was immediately brought back to the day when he'd found out that Anya Pettigrew had been attacked in her own home, the same Dark Mark spelled above. Regulus was in the middle of a meeting with Voldemort and the other Death Eaters at the time and it took all of his strength to stop himself from bolting out of that ridiculous meeting to make sure Hermione was all right.

"I was," Regulus clipped. Walburga's eyes lit up with a mixture of delight and curiosity, but he slowly shook his head. "You know that I cannot divulge too much information about my current… _work_ to outsiders, Mother. The Dark Lord will not be pleased."

"Of course," his mother sniffed, although there was clear disappointment in her eyes. "Nevertheless, I am proud of you, Regulus. You truly are the perfect heir for the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. You need not worry about Cygnus, my dear. Soon, it will be _you_ who will be wearing the family heirloom."

Regulus thickly swallowed the rising bile, wondering what diabolical schemes his mother was concocting to get rid of his uncle. Walburga was mighty convinced Cygnus was the one who'd caused Orion's death; his death was still an enigma to them all, thus surely it was the work of very dark, very obscure magic. His mother had been obsessed over this simple fact and had tried to come up with various ways to snatch the coveted seat of power and offer it to the rightful heir. _Him._

"Thank you, Mother," he forced himself to say through gritted teeth. Walburga sweetly smiled at him and squeezed his arm, before retreating back to her chair.

The throbbing headache he'd tried to ease came back with a vengeance. Regulus wished for all of this to _end_ just so he could stop this stupid pretence.

Sighing, he snatched up the newspaper and scanned the front page so he could distract himself.

**Young Auror Attacked at Home**

_By Elphaba Twist_

Regulus took a deep, shuddering breath, hoping to still his loudly beating heart. His silver eyes quickly darted towards the small photo of Peter Pettigrew in the corner of the picture, his large eyes blinking widely at the camera.

Various snippets from the newspaper caught his attention.

"… _Auror Peter Pettigrew, 21, found attacked beyond recognition at his home. His mother, Anastasia Pettigrew, was thankfully not present during the attack…"_

"… _DMLE believed this was instigated by Death Eaters…"_

"… ' _We are still currently investigating why he was targeted,' Alastor Moody, Senior Auror of the DMLE, reported…"_

"… _currently in critical condition at St. Mungo's…"_

"… _Hermione Potter, nee Pettigrew, 20, sister of Peter Pettigrew, whereabouts currently unknown…"_

Regulus then calmly placed the newspaper aside. He made himself some tea and tried to keep his shaking at bay, lest he made his mother suspicious. But who could truly blame him? He couldn't help the nervous anticipation now coursing through his veins.

Everything was still going according to plan.

And soon… _soon_ Voldemort would die and Regulus would finally be free.

* * *

**October 31, 1981**

They reappeared at the Apparition point of Godric's Hollow. Voldemort coolly looked around the empty streets, sneering at how sickeningly domestic and cheery it looked. The different houses, Muggle and Wizarding alike, were lined with various Halloween decorations, blissfully oblivious of the murder he would commit shortly.

"This way, my Lord," Regulus murmured, gesturing at a narrow street with a cobblestone pavement. Across from them stood a proud obelisk, with carved names he knew were of those who'd fallen during the Muggle World War.

Their journey towards the Potter Cottage had been a silent affair. Voldemort had ordered Regulus to accompany him that night, wanting to test if the boy really had what it took to become a brilliant Death Eater in the future. Regulus asked if it would be wise for Voldemort to ask for more Death Eaters to come, but the Dark Lord merely sneered, and told him it would be a waste of time and resources.

As they neared the Potter Cottage, his anticipation grew. The magic in him pulsed erratically, waiting to be unleashed. But his agenda for today was to only kill the boy; his parents, he could spare. He'd heard a lot of things about Harry Potter's parents—reluctant, glowing praises from their schoolmates. James Potter was a brilliant Auror; Hermione Potter was hailed as the brightest witch of her age. Although they'd defied him numerous times, perhaps if he could convince them, they'd finally join his side. After all, who could deny such power?

They'd finally stopped in front of a stone-walled house, with a lovely lawn and flower-lined windows. Voldemort's face twisted in disdain, glaring at how obviously well-loved this house had been. He tore his eyes away from the façade of the house and glanced at one of the high windows. He could see the mother's silhouette from where he stood, a small bundle pressed against her chest.

"Fools," he snarled, now pulling out his wand from his robe. He waved his wand and felt a pulse of magic course through his wand hand. The wards they'd erected were quite complicated, which didn't surprise him at all. He'd heard from loyal Regulus how Hermione Potter knew spells that were very advanced. Most of the wards that were placed around the home were undoubtedly her doing.

One by one, he breached them all. Until, all that was left was the locked doorknob which could be remedied by a simple _'Alohomora'_.

"Must I accompany you inside, my Lord?" Regulus inquired as soon as they heard the soft click of the lock.

"No," Voldemort ordered. "Stay here. It won't take long."

Perhaps it was his imagination, but he thought he saw something peculiar in Regulus's glinting, silver eyes. He'd never seen that look from his followers before, one that held such ferociousness, hatred and… and _triumph_.

Voldemort glanced at Regulus once more, but his face was the perfect picture of indifference. He probed into his mind, sifting through his memories to see if there was even an ounce of betrayal from the Pureblood heir, but all he saw were various memories of his Hogwarts years and previous Death Eater missions. What was amusing, however, was his obvious dislike for James Potter.

By the time he pulled away, there was a thin sheen of sweat on Regulus's forehead. The young wizard had grown paler too, but still kept himself upright.

"Stay here," Voldemort said, dismissing such thoughts from his mind. He'd look into it more once he finished killing the boy. Harry Potter was his priority, after all.

"Of course, my Lord."

**-ooo-**

He hadn't been sleeping properly for the past few days. James was already running on coffee most of the time, and although Hermione forced him to rest, he couldn't sleep a wink. The thought that Voldemort would dismantle their wards and barge in any day, any _time_ , had made him restless and paranoid.

It was a miracle he was wonderfully composed every morning, able to brush up on his duelling skills and take care of Hermione. Once nightfall came however, when he had nothing else to do, he'd be wide-eyed and agitated, mercilessly wondering if they would still emerge triumphant.

For the following days, James also made sure he didn't go anywhere without his wand. Even when he just had to go to the loo, his wand was safely clutched in his hand.

" _When James Potter—the other one—had confronted Voldemort, he had been defenceless,"_ Hermione had told him once. _"Make sure you do not make the same mistake as him."_

Regulus Black had assured them that everything was still going according to plan. He had received various messages from the spy through his coin bewitched with the Protean Charm and James had been reverently relaying these messages on to his wife. Truth be told, never in a million years did James imagine he'd be willingly conversing with the Black heir every single day, but _Merlin_ , here he was now. He still did not fully trust the smarmy git, but Regulus obviously cared for Hermione – _too much_ , to his displeasure. Sirius's younger brother disliked him too, for very obvious reasons of course, but he knew he'd also willingly work with James if it meant Hermione would be safe.

Hermione had been rigorous too, constantly practicing her wand work with an almost obsessive glint in her eyes. And yet, at night, after she'd worn herself out from her constant practicing, she'd slip into their bed and let her tears silently fall. James merely held her tight and soothed her, until she was quiet and sleeping.

This had gone on for days and James was slowly losing his mind. Millions of 'what if's' kept on running through his mind – What if Hermione's plan didn't work? What if Voldemort didn't come? What if… what if, in the end, Harry Potter would still be orphaned?

These terrible thoughts had worsened last night, when Regulus had relayed that the Dark Lord was planning to pay them a visit _tonight_. Both he and Hermione hadn't slept a wink, minds too preoccupied with possible scenarios that might happen.

They'd breezed through the day mechanically. Hermione constantly repeated her plan. Again, and again, and again. James could recite it even in his sleep, but he'd indulged his wife, knowing full well Hermione needed to know that they'd adhere to everything, just so that on the thirty-first of October, no one would die in this house _but Voldemort_.

Right now, James was in their living room, nervously waiting for Voldemort's arrival. Hermione was already in Harry's nursery and in a few minutes, James would join her.

The night stretched on and even the warm, crackling fire from the fireplace did nothing to soothe his troubled heart.

He was jolted out of his troublesome thoughts when something suddenly burned against his pocket. He pulled out the small knut and drew it close to his eyes.

_He's here. Get ready._

Blood rushed into his ears as something warm also bloomed against his chest. James's fingers clutched onto the amulet Hermione had given to him before and predictably, it was glowing ominous green.

It only meant one thing: _danger was near_.

He was instantly on his feet when he felt their wards one by one being banished. And when he heard the soft click of their doorknob, he hastily climbed the stairs two steps at a time.

When he burst inside Harry's nursery, he was wide-eyed and breathless.

Hermione tensely looked at him.

"It's time," he announced.

Tears gathered in Hermione's eyes but she firmly nodded. James was instantly beside her, clutching onto her hand for dear life and together, they waited with bated breath for the Dark Lord's arrival.

**-ooo-**

Her breath was almost knocked out of her chest when she heard footsteps downstairs. Her hold on James's hand tightened with every second, silently relaying how she was very much afraid. But no, _no_ , there was no time for any fear. Voldemort fed off his enemies' fear. Hermione must make him understand that invading this house – her _home_ – was a terrible mistake.

Her heartbeat matched Voldemort's footsteps, growing thunderous and deafening as he climbed their stairs. Beside her, she heard James's stifled gasp when the doorknob turned.

A pale hand with long, thin fingers peeked through the crack as Voldemort deftly pushed the door open. He stepped inside, his heavy cloak still drawn over his face. James stood slightly in front of Hermione, as a stuttered gasp escaped from her lips.

She swore she stopped breathing when he removed his hood and showed his face. Hermione was half-prepared to meet the red eyes and snake-slit nose, because that was the Voldemort she had become acquainted with. But then, standing opposite her, was a very pale wizard, with an aristocratic nose and proud chin. His dark brown eyes were sunken and wide, glinting in the dark room in clear amusement as he beheld the couple. His rich, raven hair, definitely tidier than her husband's, had a few streaks of grey. There were hints that he had been handsome during his youth, but his experimentation with the Dark Arts had left permanent marks on his body.

"Good evening," he coolly greeted, his voice a rich baritone. His greeting slithered out from his mouth and drew horrified shivers down Hermione's spine. This was a man with a mission and from the way he cracked a menacing grin on his face, Voldemort wouldn't leave this house without getting what he wanted.

"Please," he continued, "I wish you both no harm. Give me your son and I will spare you."

"Like hell we will!" James spat with ferocity.

Voldemort's eyes hardened, obviously angered at his defiance, but Hermione watched as he carefully crafted a mask over his face and hid whatever emotion he was feeling. His eyes then swept towards Hermione as he continued, "Give me your son, and I will spare you both."

She took a deep, shuddering breath and summoned all the Gryffindor bravery in her body. "We will never give you Harry," she strongly replied. " _Never_."

Voldemort tightly pursed his lips. "You leave me with no choice, then." One moment he was empty-handed, and the next, his wand was clutched tightly in his hand. Hermione reacted quickly and pushed James away from her. Her husband toppled down onto the floor and groaned in pain. At the same time, a green spell whizzed just over where James's face had been a while ago, hitting one of the windows instead and shattering the glass. Cold, biting wind rushed through the gaping hole and Hermione involuntarily shivered.

Deafening silence followed Voldemort's assault and Hermione started to expel loud, shallow breaths. She kept her emotions at bay, almost sobbing in relief that she had been able to react quickly. If she hadn't, then James… James would be—

' _Focus,'_ a voice hissed inside her head. Hermione swallowed down her fear and tensely watched as Voldemort took a few steps closer to Harry's crib, the _Avada_ already on the tip of his tongue. But then, he paused, eyebrows knitting together. His brown eyes had grown wider, utter anger in them as he glanced at the silent Hermione. "It can't be!" he growled.

In three quick strides, Voldemort was hovering over the empty crib, the little boy nowhere in sight. "Where is the boy?" the Dark Lord thundered, hurtling a blasting spell at the doll in Harry's crib, managing to break his bed into two.

"You will never find him," James spat, slowly standing up from the floor. His hazel eyes glinted defiantly as he steadfastly met Voldemort's furious gaze. "He is safe, somewhere far away from _you_." Her husband slowly walked back to Hermione's side, his hazel eyes never leaving the Dark Lord's form.

"Where is the boy?" the furious wizard demanded once more.

Hermione took a deep, shuddering breath and pierced him with the darkest glare she could muster. "You will _never_ find Harry," she tightly said. "You will _never_ lay a hand on him. You will _never_ hurt him. Never! I won't let you."

"Fool," Voldemort snarled, baring his teeth at the seething brunette. "You think you are a match for me?"

"You will never kill anyone else," Hermione continued, her heart constricting in pure anticipation and fear – and everything in between. Her mind rushed with various memories – of both Hermione Granger and Hermione Potter – and all that was stark and clear from the memories was _Harry_ – past and present – green eyes morphing into blue. Hermione didn't even care if tears now leaked out from her eyes, because Voldemort was finally here, at their _mercy_ , and the bloody fucking bastard did not even know it. "If anybody is going to die tonight, it will be _you_ , Voldemort."

She spat his name with so much vehemence, so much disgust, it only made the dangerous wizard angrier.

"Do you honestly think you can kill me that easily, girl?"

Despite her swimming vision, Hermione managed to crack a small, almost maniacal smile. "You think so highly of yourself," she continued, her hand already slipping inside her pocket to pull out her trusted pouch, spelled with the illegal Undetectable Extension Charm. Voldemort threw a dark spell towards Hermione, but she was ready this time, erecting a powerful shield that deflected his spell. The violet stream of light rebounded and Voldemort calmly stepped aside, not even breaking Hermione's gaze.

James had also thrown a powerful shield towards his wife when Voldemort continued to throw a barrage of multicoloured dark spells towards the brunette.

"Did you know? We already discovered your secret," she yelled above the ruckus he was making, pulling out the destroyed diadem and throwing it on the floor, near his feet. Voldemort's assault was drawn into an abrupt halt, his eyes widening in horror as he recognised Ravenclaw's Diadem. "This was the easiest to find."

She pulled out another destroyed horcrux, Helga Hufflepuff's Cup, and threw it on the ground too. "I have to especially thank Regulus Black. He was the one who was keenest to kill you, you know." He took a stuttered breath in disbelief as she pulled the diary out next and threw it down. "You should clearly choose which follower you put your trust into, Voldemort. Regulus has been most helpful. Did you know that he was the one who stole this? Right under your precious Malfoy's nose?"

She then pulled out Slytherin's locket and flung it on the ground with the other destroyed horcruxes. Voldemort had grown blurry because of her tears now, and Hermione knew this was a dangerous game they were playing. But he looked honestly horrified, watching as she displayed his destroyed horcruxes one by one. Truth be told, she felt like Voldemort had stopped breathing all together. "That little bugger almost cost me my life, but I've been told I am mighty stubborn."

And lastly, she pulled out the Gaunt ring, a crack in the black gem, and flicked it down to join the other horcruxes. "You've lost, Voldemort," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "We've destroyed all of your horcruxes. _You_ are not invincible anymore. And tonight, you will _die_."

Anger dangerously flashed in the Dark Lord's eyes as he raised his wand to hurtle another spell at Hermione. The brunette didn't even think when an _Avada_ whizzed towards her, ducking down as fast as she could to avoid the spell purely due to her war-heightened instincts. She threw a well-aimed _Sectumsempra_ in retaliation, and predictably, the Dark Lord was able to deftly deflect it with an equally powerful shield of his own.

Too distracted with his blinding rage and clear intent in killing Hermione this time, Voldemort wasn't able to notice an overgrown rat scuttling from where he had been hiding underneath the cabinet in Harry's nursery. Noiselessly, the rat transformed. For a moment, his blue, tear-filled eyes met Hermione's and, with a determined nod, he slashed his wand in a lightning bolt pattern and snarled a booming _'AVADA KEDAVRA!'_

Hermione knew it was impossible, but she swore time truly slowed down when the green light travelled through the small space between her brother and the evil wizard before hitting Voldemort squarely on his back. The wizard then toppled over and joined his destroyed horcruxes on the ground, unmoving.

For a moment, none of the trio moved. Peter was loudly gasping for breath, his hand still tightly clutching onto his wand, lest Voldemort, by some miracle, stood back onto his feet. James edged closer and kicked the unmoving body on the floor, enabling Hermione to catch sight of Voldemort's eyes.

Glassy and empty.

_Dead._

Dead. Dead. Dead.

This realisation hit her in such force, that heaving sobs tore out from Hermione's lips as the brave mask she'd worn throughout the encounter shattered from the powerful force of her emotions. At the same time, she heard numerous pops resounding in their house, until a few Aurors—including Sirius and Remus—burst inside Harry's nursery. Amongst them was Regulus, silver eyes wild and crazed, unable to swallow down a gasp at seeing Voldemort on the floor.

Sirius cautiously stepped towards Voldemort and kicked him thrice. When he didn't move, another Auror bent down and pressed his finger against his pulse point, before releasing a jovial shout. "He's dead!" he exclaimed. "Voldemort's death!"

His loud words prompted Peter to hastily reach for Hermione, stumbling a bit over Voldemort's body due to his clumsiness. Peter threw his arms around his sister and tightly held her close as the Pettigrew siblings released loud, guttural sobs that shook the whole household.

Hermione's blue eyes then sought out James. Her husband was shaking terribly, tears also leaking from his hazel eyes, but the smile on his face was wide and blinding. "H-Harry," she stuttered. "I must… my _son_ …"

James understood what she was trying to say. He reached for both Hermione and Peter and Side-Along Apparated them away from their house.

They reappeared a few meters away from the Snapes' House. The façade of the Snapes' House was visible to Hermione, but the usual flowers wrapped around the white, wrought-iron gates were withered, as if projecting some illusion of neglect and abandon. She glanced at the windows, but try as she might, she could not see any movement inside.

From an outsider's point-of-view, it looked like the house hadn't been lived in for weeks. But Hermione… Hermione knew Dumbledore had also done his nifty little trick at the Snapes' House. Inside, she knew that her son was there, protected by her best friends. Inside, she knew her bright, healthy, baby boy was waiting for _her_ and she needed to see him right now.

"Here," James said, hastily thrusting a crumpled piece of parchment into her hand when Hermione's desperate blue eyes met his gaze.

She was unable to take in the words, but the magic of the Fidelius Charm held true as the powerful, protective cloak blanketing the house was removed. Hermione had already torn herself away from Peter's arms and was loudly banging on the front door, uncaring if her loud ruckus was rousing the whole neighbourhood.

The door was yanked open, a furious Sev standing behind it. His wand was clutched tightly in his hand, ready to release a spell to protect his house, but his eyes widened upon beholding Hermione.

He briefly glanced over her shoulder, able to notice the other two wizards standing behind her.

"How—" Sev thickly swallowed, piercing Hermione with his dark eyes. "How do I know it is truly you?"

A strangled laugh escaped from Hermione's lips, her swotty mind wanting to point out that they were placed under the Fidelius Charm just a while ago and that her presence meant she was able to read the bewitched parchment bearing their address already. But all she was able to say was, "Get out of the way, you bloody sourpuss. My son… Harry… I need to see him. Please. _Please_."

Hope shone in Sev's eyes. "It's done?" he breathlessly asked. "Voldemort… he's… he's truly _gone_?"

Hermione vigorously nodded her head and pushed past Sev. Thankfully, he let her in and Hermione began blindly searching for Harry.

She stumbled into their small kitchen, spying Lily standing alert and stiff in one corner, Harry tightly pressed against her chest. Her knuckles were already turning white from how tightly she was clutching her wand, but once her emerald eyes flew to Hermione's, tears leaked down onto her cheeks.

The baby in Lily's arms started to squirm, merrily gurgling upon recognising his mother. "Mama!" he cried, already extending his arms towards Hermione.

Hermione's face crumpled as she ran through the kitchen until she was standing in front of her best friend and her son. Lily immediately passed over Harry to Hermione, stepping aside as the brunette started to loudly cry on Harry's hair. The child looked marvellously confused at his mother's tears, but was already busy entangling himself in her impossible curls.

She then felt a strong arm wrapping around her and her son. Hermione's blurry eyes met the beautiful hazels of her husband. James had a soft look on his face, unabashedly letting his tears fall too, as a small smile grew on his face.

"Harry is safe," he gently proclaimed.

Hermione's hold on Harry tightened. Her heart threatened to burst out from her chest due to her overwhelming emotions, but she found herself grinning widely at her sweet, _sweet_ boy.

"Harry is safe."

* * *

**November 3, 1981**

Hermione took a deep, contented sigh and beamed at the scenery in the Potter Gardens. It was already a terribly cold winter morning, but snow had yet to make an appearance. The brunette had bundled herself up and Harry until they were warm and toasty, and even spelled a few warming charm around them for added comfort.

She glanced down at the babe in her arms, her smile turning fond when Harry blinked his wide, blue eyes in return. Her son then showed her a gummy smile with hints of his few baby teeth. Harry slowly gripped her curls and happily tugged them, oblivious to the pained grimace his mother had showed.

"I'm starting to think you just love me because of my hair," she sighed in mild exasperation.

"Yes!" was Harry's happy reply.

Hermione huffed out a laugh and pressed Harry closer to his chest, marvelling at the feeling that she was once again holding her baby in her arms and very much alive.

Although Harry's transfer to the Snapes was a necessary part of the plan, in case things blew out of proportions and they weren't able to still kill Voldemort when he sought them out at Potter Cottage, Hermione still had terribly missed Harry. She was so used having him by her side, taking care of him, watching him do his firsts, and thus, the first few days of Harry's absence had been one of Hermione's saddest days. The thought that she might not see anymore had plagued her while she and James prepared for Voldemort's arrival. At the same time, that very same thought had fuelled the bravery she desperately needed when she confronted Voldemort at their home, intent of killing him once and for all.

"What are you doing outside, sweetheart? It's cold!"

Hermione and Harry snapped their gazes at the new arrival. Hermione's smile widened, beholding a bemused Anya just standing a few meters away from them. "We've been cooped inside for a very long time, Mum," she explained with a laugh. "Harry and I are just enjoying the outside world."

Anya's gaze turned fond as she approached the mother-son pair. She then hooked her arm around Hermione's and for a moment, the trio just stared contentedly at the garden Euphemia Potter had worked very hard to maintain.

"James and Peter still aren't back?"

Her mother glanced at her and shook her head. "Some Auror work, I'm sure," Anya said. A snort flew out of her mouth, the corners of her lips twitching in delight. "You haven't gone out of hiding for a week, but that husband of yours is already rigorously doing his work."

"James Potter wasn't meant to stay put," Hermione pointed out with glinting eyes. "I'm not even surprised."

"Your _brother_ , however…" Anya trailed off, humour evident in her clear, blue eyes. "Let us just say he still isn't used with his newfound _fame_."

Hermione brightly grinned as she recalled the morning edition of the Daily Prophet today.

Predictably, when the Potters went out of hiding after Voldemort's death, the whole Wizarding world had pieced everything together. Although none of them knew exactly what had transpired—and why they were being targeted—what everybody discovered was that it was Peter Pettigrew who killed Voldemort. The media had swarmed around this fact, constantly trailing behind Peter and demanding an interview, as he was now hailed as the bravest hero of the Wizarding World.

It was entirely laughable, especially because Peter looked deeply flummoxed and horrified at the same time. Peter had one time insisted that it wasn't all him, that his sister was behind all the planning that led to Voldemort's death, but Hermione had merely smiled when she was asked for an interview, reasoning out that she'd rather spend more time with her family than be bothered for a ridiculous interview. Sometimes, she'd deliberately show off Harry just so they would back-off. The media had soon left Hermione alone and instead latched onto Peter, opting to sensationalise his heroic deed. Hermione still laughed at some of the articles speculating Voldemort's ultimate death, embellishing ridiculous scenes that surely, _surely_ never happened.

"Everybody missed you and your family, Hermione," Anya then said with a fond squeeze to Hermione's arm.

"I've missed everybody too," Hermione said, followed by a soft sigh. "I'm just… I'm just glad everything's over. I know there are still rogue Death Eaters flurrying around, but with Voldemort gone I think… I think…" She closed her eyes and took another deep breath. "I think I am finally at peace."

Her eyes fluttered open when Anya touched her cheek. Her mother had tears in her eyes, but the smile on her face was bright and warm. "You've been through a lot, sweetheart," she said. "You deserve this. You deserve _everything_."

Hermione's gaze turned soft, wrapping an arm around her mother to give her a one-armed hug. "You know," she slowly started, "I was angry at first the potion I took made me a Pettigrew."

"And why is that?" Anya asked in surprise.

The brunette sadly smiled. "It's… _well_ , suffice to say, the Peter Pettigrew that Hermione Granger knew wasn't as brave and kind like my brother," she vaguely replied.

"And now?" her mother quipped.

Her smile turned bright. "Now? _Merlin_ , I'm infinitely thankful to all the cosmic stars above I was born as Hermione Pettigrew," she answered with a soft laugh. Hermione lightly pulled away to catch Anya's gaze. "You've been very kind and sweet, Mum. And Peter was a great big brother. Our childhood wasn't exactly pleasant, but you've made up for it by filling our home with so much love."

Hermione wrapped her arm around Anya again and felt her eyes misting with emotion. "If by some bizarre reason I am forced to take that dark potion once more, I hope I'll still be born as a Pettigrew with you as my mother and Peter as my brother."

"Oh, sweetheart," Anya tearfully sighed. "I'm glad you are a Pettigrew too."

The brunette laughed and tightened her hold around her mother. At the same time, Harry started squirming in her other arm, annoyed at being squished in between the two witches.

Hermione and Anya broke apart and laughed at the squirming babe. His grandmother plucked him out of Hermione's hold and cuddled with him, sweet words slipping out of her lips that made Harry burst into a fit of giggles.

Hermione was contented in watching them interact. Anya by then had placed Harry on top of the table in the gardens and the two swapped stories, mostly about what happened to the Wizarding World while Hermione and her family were in hiding.

"What do you plan on doing now, Hermione?" her mother had then asked. "Now that Voldemort is gone and your family is safe, what do you want to do now?"

The younger witch blinked at Anya's question, mulling over what she would answer. "Well," Hermione started, her gaze shifting towards the horizon, "to be honest, I… I don't know." A silly laugh slipped out from her lips as her eyes filled with tears. "But, it doesn't matter. I now have all the time in the world to figure it out."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you honestly think I'll make these babies unhappy in the end? I didn't write a fanfic with 300k+ words just so these characters will not have their happy ending. Hermione, most especially. I truly love my own version of Hermione and I know she frustrated you all very, very much, but I wanted her to have understandable faults because of her trauma from the previous war she ran away from and watching her best friend die right before her eyes. Canon Hermione was really great and so, so BAMF but Canon Hermione didn't watch her best friend die or wasn't reborn into a different person with a great burden of a possible future she didn't want to go through again. LOL, I can legit write a whole character analysis of HotS Hermione citing extensive sources if I can, but I don't have the time.
> 
> Also, when I said I wrote this fic because I wanted to give Peter Pettigrew a bigger role, I really meant A REALLY BIG role. Canon Peter's betrayal was the reason why Harry Potter was orphaned so, you know, I think it's just fitting HotS Peter will be the one to kill Voldemort in the end to give Harry two, very alive parents he deserved. That Animagus scene was hinted numerous times before too haha – Hermione pointing out he could escape an evil wizard because of his form, Peter able to pass his Concealment and Disguise with flying colours, Moody unable to find him in this form… I know, really miniscule facts, but hints nonetheless. I hope Hermione's whole plan made sense too hahahaha. Peter's staged attack is needed so Voldemort won't think he'll cause trouble now that he discovered about the Potters' hiding place. Hermione taunting Voldemort with his destroyed horcruxes was just something I wanted our heroine to do because the least I can do was give her this opportunity to rub it in Voldemort's face that he lost. Again, as what I've always told you, all these things made so much sense in my mind so I hope I'm able to convey them properly hahaha.
> 
> I'll save the long, dramatic post after I've posted the epilogue. It's still being edited so I'm not sure if I'll be able to post it tomorrow. Rest assured that I'll be able to finish this story within this week, though.
> 
> So that's it haha
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes)


	57. epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, surprise! My Beta was able to edit this chapter immediately so that I can post it today.
> 
> So yes, hi, you've reached the epilogue of 'Hero of the Story'. I'll save the long post at the end. Enjoy!

* * *

**epilogue.**

_**how rare and beautiful it is that we exist** _

(Saturn by Sleeping at Last)

* * *

**July 31, 1991**

"Are you really sure about this, Hermione?"

The worry in his voice was thick, and despite the humongous nervousness she was feeling, Hermione managed to crack a small smile. "Really? You're asking that now when we're practically a few blocks away already?"

Peter threw a withering glare.

Hermione's smile wobbled, her heart thudding wildly inside her chest as the various, familiar houses lining the quaint street in Heathgate passed by them. Her tongue grew thicker with each step she took, and although a part of her still doubted this was a good idea, her curiosity trumped the nervousness she was feeling.

"Harry just received his Hogwarts letter," she softly explained. "I just thought… _well_ , I got really curious." She sighed and reached for Peter, hooking her arm around his. "I wanted to see for myself. I've wondered about it for years and today just seemed like a good day to finally see it for myself."

"It's my godson's birthday, blimey," Peter whined. "There are plenty of other days to do this, Hermione."

She lightly pinched him on his arm, earning her an annoyed scowl from her older brother. "We were on the way," she pointed out. "Just… just stop making a fuss. It won't even take an hour."

Peter blessedly relented, although he still wore his petulant scowl. Underneath his annoyance, though, Hermione could see the deep worry he had for his sister. She squeezed his arm in appreciation, silently relaying her gratitude that he was accompanying her today.

As they continued to walk along one of the lovely streets of the Hampstead Garden Suburb, Hermione took that time to observe her surroundings. It was a beautiful summer's day, with the sun high in the sky without any clouds in sight. Her eyes slightly watered upon spying the familiar playground she used to frequent as Hermione Granger, the place filled with laughing children being chased around by their exasperated parents. They passed by the park bench Harold Granger used to sit with her on, and the father-daughter pair would observe the passers-by in contented silence. Up ahead, at the crossroads, stood the imposing church the Grangers used to go to, before they discovered their daughter was a witch.

The whole place was _exactly_ how she remembered. Although memories of Hermione Granger were now incredibly blurry in the brunette's mind, it flummoxed her greatly how she could still remember the place she'd once called home.

Her heart leapt into her throat as she finally drew to a halt, standing in front of a handsome lawn filled with rows and rows of flowery bushes. A soft laugh escaped from her lips, spying the ridiculously ugly gnome Harold Granger was very fond of, nestled in between blooming bushes of sunflowers.

"Everything's… everything's the same," she breathlessly said, her watery eyes taking in the brown brick-walled exterior of the house.

"Are you okay?" Peter worriedly asked, squeezing her elbow to get her attention.

Hermione tore her gaze away from the house and glanced at her brother. "I-I don't know," she slightly stuttered. Her heart felt heavy, overwhelmed by an onslaught of emotions she could never make sense of. Tears slipped down from her eyes as she turned her gaze back towards the house, reminiscing about insignificant memories of Hermione Granger strolling around this home.

A gasp escaped from her lips when the front door suddenly tore open. Hermione tightly gripped onto Peter when a man in his late thirties, with unruly hair that almost rivalled a Selwyn's, slipped out of the house. His familiar brown eyes blinked at the Pettigrews in surprise, before an uncertain smile stretched on his face.

"Can I help you?" Harold Granger asked. Hermione's eyes travelled towards the heavy box in his arms, before glancing at the small suburban car parked in front of the house.

"Um… I-I, well," she breathlessly started.

"We used to know someone who lived here," Peter blurted out, saving Hermione from her embarrassing blubber.

The older man's eyebrows knitted in confusion. "Oh?" he asked, now looking suspiciously at the two. "As far as I know, I've been living here for almost thirty-nine years."

"Right," Hermione said, wanting to smack herself for not thinking this through. Now, surely Harold Granger thought they were too bloody suspicious. "Right… um, sorry." She canted her head at the box in his arms, which he then deposited in the trunk of his car. "Going somewhere?"

It was clear Harold was debating whether he should continue conversing with the strangers. The way his shoulders tensed meant he felt mighty uncomfortable with their presence. Hermione gave him a placating smile, trying to relay that they meant no harm. Harold blinked his eyes at her, before a small, almost hesitant smile grew on his face.

"The missus and I finally decided to move to Australia," he slowly replied. "About damn time, if you ask me. Although England is home, we've decided it's time to discover other beautiful places in the world."

Her heart ached, remembering Harold's story when Hermione Granger was younger. He and Jean Granger had always dreamt of moving to Australia to continue their dental practice, but with Hermione's sudden birth and consequent acceptance at Hogwarts, they'd decided to continue staying in England. Which was why Hermione Granger had instantly known that once she'd Obliviated her parents, she'd send them to Australia.

"I'm sure Australia will be wonderful," she whispered, trying her very best to keep her emotions at bay. Her grip on Peter's arm was very tight, judging from the way her brother grimaced in pain. Thankfully, however, Peter did not peep any protests.

The door opened once more and out came a woman with a straight, dark brown hair and chestnut-brown eyes. 

"Oh," Jean Granger said, her eyes sweeping towards the strangers. "We have visitors, Harold?"

"We're just passing by," Hermione assured, a wobbly grin appearing on her face. "We used to know someone who lived here."

"Oh," Jean repeated, this time a lovely smile now appearing on her face. "Well, you passed by at a terrible time. My husband and I are moving out of the country."

A question sat on the tip of Hermione's tongue, and try as she might, she could not form the proper words. She did not know how to ask about… about _her_ without sounding too intrusive and strange. Her head already felt fuzzy at the sight of the two people she'd once called parents.

"Just the two of you?" Peter suddenly blurted out. "No children protesting at the huge move?"

Identical sad looks appeared on the Grangers, with Jean looking the most forlorn, but there was a small, tentative smile on Harold's face. "No. Oh no, no children," he explained. "It's just the two of us."

Hermione's breath hitched, unsure how to feel about the fact that Hermione Granger was currently non-existent. Somehow, she'd already had an inkling this was the case. Hermione Pettigrew wasn't supposed to exist during Hermione Granger's timeline. It made sense one could not exist while the other was alive. It would create too many complicated rifts in the timeline.

"Oh," she found herself breathing out. "I-I'm sorry."

Jean chuckled and discreetly brushed an errant tear away. "No need to apologise," she said with a lovely laugh.

"We should probably get going," Harold then said, reaching forwards to tightly hold onto Jean's hand. "Our flight's in a few hours and we cannot afford to miss that."

"Right, of course," Peter said with a vigorous nod. "Come on, Hermione. We should… we should probably go."

Hermione's blue eyes softened at the couple she'd once considered her family. "I sincerely wish you both a wonderful life," she whispered, unable to stop a few tears from escaping her blue eyes. "You both… you both _deserve_ it."

They looked at her oddly, but there were hesitant smiles on their faces.

"Thank you," Harold said.

Peter murmured a quick goodbye and tugged her away. Instead of Apparating, her brother sat her down on the nearby park bench and held her hand.

"Are you okay?" he asked, peering at her tearful face with worried eyes.

Hermione huffed a laugh as she lifted a hand and brushed her tears away. "Yeah," she murmured. "Yeah. Just… just give me a few minutes, Petey."

Her brother nodded and resolutely held her hand while Hermione softly cried. She wasn't entirely sure how she truly felt – perhaps grief, for a Muggleborn girl who'd never had the chance to experience magic for the first time, or guilt for being the reason why Jean Granger never bore a child. There was this odd relief in her heart too, but Hermione could not truly understand what it meant.

It took her a few minutes to compose herself. "We should probably go," she said, turning to Peter to give him a shaky smile. " _Merlin_ , it's my Harry's birthday! I can't afford to feel like this today."

Peter smiled sadly and draped an arm over her shoulder. "Let's go back to our family," he said.

Her smile grew. _Family_. Even though she'd had to give up her life as Hermione Granger just to make this world a better place, Hermione Pettigrew—now Potter—had no regrets, because in the end, she had still found a group of people she now considered her family.

"Let's go home," she said.

**-ooo-**

The Pettigrew siblings rematerialised at the Apparition point in Godric's Hollow. Hermione, by then, had calmed down from her overwhelming emotions after their visit to the Grangers and had reached out for Peter to link arms with him once more.

"How's Mary?" she asked, tilting her head upwards to gaze at her brother's face.

"She's… _managing_." She snorted at his grimace, prompting him to sheepishly smile. "This pregnancy is worse than when she was carrying Annie. She's now even more convinced Baby No. 2 is a boy." A sly smirk then appeared on his face, his blue eyes glinting brightly as they continued to walk along the narrow streets of Godric's Hollow. "How about you? Am I expecting another niece or nephew?"

This time, it was Hermione who made a face. " _Please_. No more," she cried in exasperation. "I don't think my poor body can take another one."

Peter merrily chuckled, then continued to tell her about his previous Auror assignment. Hermione indulged him by answering at the right time, laughing like silly over the ridiculous jokes he quipped.

As they continued their journey back home, Hermione expelled a contented sigh. It was rare for her to see her brother nowadays, seeing that he was swamped with his Auror work. Hermione, as the appointed Arithmancy Professor, was already readying for the next school-year. Added to that was Harry's impending first year at Hogwarts. Things had been rather busy at the Potter Cottage, as Hermione had made it a point that Harry would have everything he needed once he started going to school.

Her attention was brought back to Peter when he released a loud groan. " _Seriously_ ," he whined. "Why won't they remove that stupid, _stupid_ thing?"

Hermione grinned widely, already knowing the reason for Peter's disgruntlement. The obelisk bearing the different names of World War II victims came into view and as they neared it, the monument shifted to show an imposing statue of Peter Pettigrew, towering over a snake wrapped around a skull, with his wand tip pointed at the symbol of the Dark Mark. A small inscription was scribbled below:

 _To strive and triumph in the face of fear  
_ _Is what it means to be a hero_

It was terribly cheesy and magnificent at the same time. Peter's statue looked formidable, which was wholly laughable for Hermione because her brother was a sweet, _sweet_ man. Granted, the statue looked almost exactly like Peter, but the expression on its face looked so out-of-place.

"I think it's brilliant, oh Great Saviour," she teased. Hermione yelped when Peter pinched her side.

"Don't call me that," he whined, cheeks blooming red as he tugged Hermione away from his embarrassing statue. "It's been _eleven_ years since that day. Why can't they just… let it all go?"

"Well, you were brilliant that day," she reminded him. "Of course people would want to rejoice, because you managed to kill the vilest wizard the Wizarding World has ever known."

"If people should hail a bloody hero, it should be _you_."

The corner of Hermione's lips quirked into a small smile. This wasn't an unfamiliar argument; Peter constantly insisted that he'd just followed Hermione's plans. He thought that someone who'd thrown an _Avada_ shouldn't be hailed a hero. Of course they were allowed to use an Unforgivable if the need arose as an Auror, but Peter still thought it was mighty weird everybody just accepted that.

"I'm too tired of the limelight," she finally answered, echoing her usual words to dismiss Peter's insistence that her involvement in Voldemort's downfall should be recognised more than his last-minute spell. "Just let me live in peace."

He snorted, but had thankfully dropped the subject once they'd reached Potter Cottage.

For a brief moment, her eyes landed on the window connected to the room where Harry's nursery used to be. James had suggested for them to move out a few days after Voldemort's defeat, but Hermione insisted they shouldn't bother. Instead, they'd spent the remaining year destroying the very same room where Voldemort was killed, filling it with trinkets and furniture laced with fond memories of their family's growth through the years. None of them frequented that room, though, but Hermione still found herself standing in front of the door, constantly reminding herself they'd finally triumphed and Voldemort was dead.

"Hermione?" Peter called, breaking through her thoughts.

"Right, sorry," she hastily said, throwing him a good-natured smile. "Come on."

Even before Hermione had crossed the threshold, she could hear the loud ruckus coming from inside. Her smile stretched wide on her face when Peter ushered her inside her home. They walked past the empty living room and into the huge backyard behind.

It was pandemonium, with little children chasing one another around the vast garden. The adults were huddled in one corner, exchanging various conversations over a game of Wizard's Chess.

For Harry's eleventh birthday, James had insisted they invite a lot of people over to Potter Cottage to celebrate this milestone with them. Their firstborn was of course delighted, because this meant he'd be seeing his friends all gathered in his home. Hermione had been dreading this day, however, because she knew it would be exhausting - preparing everything for Harry's birthday, while at the same time, making sure everybody was entertained and that none of the children would do something silly and get injured.

"I'm going to the kitchens to see if I can help," Hermione said, her blue eyes briefly scanning the mass of people to see if anything was amiss. She then pierced Peter with a stern glare. "Make sure no one's going to get hurt, especially my _children_ , Merlin Almighty. I'm always nervous every time Sirius and the older Weasley children are together."

Peter snorted, no doubt remembering the disastrous monthly Sunday dinner at the Weasleys' Burrow that ended up in a food fight, which had definitely been instigated by Sirius and the oldest Weasley sons. "I'll try my best, but no promises, 'Mione," he said.

"That's good enough," she said with a sigh. Hermione bid him goodbye and sauntered back inside her lovely home, towards the kitchen.

Her nose was soon assaulted by various odorous scents, prompting her mouth to water in hunger. She hadn't had her breakfast yet, mind too consumed with nervousness prior to visiting the Grangers' home.

She grinned at the sight of Anya and Molly Weasley skirting around the kitchen, various pots and pans, spatulas and bowls dancing in the air as they prepared Harry's birthday meal. Fleamont and Euphemia were there to assist, and amongst the flurried actions of the older witches, James was standing over a steaming pot, bringing a small spoon towards his lips to have a tiny taste. James grimaced and grabbed some salt and pepper and started to add more into the pot.

"Hello," was Hermione's greeting.

All of their eyes instantly snapped towards Hermione. "You're back!" James exclaimed, beaming the brightest amongst the group.

"Peter and I took a brief detour," she sheepishly said, settling down the paper bags on the countertop. "What can I do to help?"

"Harry's birthday cake hasn't been made yet, sweetheart," Anya said. Hermione snorted at how humongous her bushy hair had grown from the humidity inside the kitchen. "Molly and I need some help to make that."

"Just don't let her design the cake," James murmured from his spot near the steaming pots.

Hermione's cheeks reddened. "What was that, Potter?" she sniped.

Her husband threw her an innocent grin. "Nothing, love," he placated.

The brunette rolled her eyes and strolled towards the scattered ingredients of the birthday cake.

"Let me help you with that, Hermione," Euphemia volunteered, standing beside Hermione. "I am actually quite good with baking."

Fleamont, who was helping Molly mix some of the pasta sauce for the lasagne, loudly snorted. "Good at baking, yes. But preparing pasta, however…"

"What was that, _Potter_?" his wife sniped, bringing out a boisterous laugh from James's lips. Hermione grinned in amusement when Euphemia threw another snarky retort back at her husband, which Fleamont wholeheartedly returned with a well-aimed reply.

"I miss talking with adults so much," Molly then lamented, a comically relieved sigh escaping from her lips. "Being constantly surrounded by children every day almost drove me mad."

"You're amazing, Molly. Truly," Hermione said. "I don't know how you do it."

"Hear, hear," Anya added with a laugh. "Taking care of just two of the stubbornest children in the world gave me a headache."

The youngest witch in the group sheepishly grinned at her mother whilst Molly merely laughed and happily continued preparing the lasagne for the group. Hermione's eyes strayed towards the small, redheaded witch, her heart fluttering with fond memories of her older version. Although admittedly she was wary of Molly Weasley because of some instances in Hermione Granger's life, the love she gave her children was unconditional. Now that she had her own children, Hermione understood how fiercely protective Molly had been with her children and had reached out to her as soon as Voldemort was dead. Besides, she was curious to meet the younger versions of the Weasleys, especially _Ron_. It didn't surprise Hermione when Harry and Ron instantly forged a friendship she definitely knew would transcend time.

Her eyes then tore away from Molly when a new set of footsteps arrived in the kitchens.

"Dad," eight-year-old Stella Potter called, making a beeline towards her father. "Dad, please. You're needed outside! Everybody's playing Quidditch."

Hermione was unable to suppress a snort when James's face brightened just at the sight of their daughter. She still remembered, clear as day, how James had cried shameless, happy tears when baby Stella was placed in his arms. While Stella had inherited the riotous Selwyn hair, her eyes were hazel like her father's. And, she knew right then and there, that while Hermione had spoiled Harry rotten, Stella would be the apple of her father's eyes.

"Stella, princess, you know I'm making a meal for your brother," James sighed, gesturing towards the steaming pot he'd been slaving over ever since Hermione had arrived.

The eight-year-old petulantly tugged on her curls. "Uncle Pads knew you'd refuse and told me to tell you that Uncle Reggie's playing as Seeker for the other team," she continued.

Predictably, James stiffened, his hazel eyes glinting with ridiculous resolution. "Really now," he said, surreptitiously glancing at Hermione. " _Well_ , I used to play Chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, but I'm a decent Seeker too."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Really, James?" she snorted. "This ridiculous rivalry with Regulus is getting way out of hand. It's been _years_ , blimey."

He lifted his chin in the air. "I _am_ a better Quidditch player than him," he pointed out with a small scowl. "In fact, I'll show you." James then turned to Molly and gave her his most charming smile. "Molly, dearest, I'm sorry for not finishing this soup but I'm really needed outside. Defending the honour of my lady love is the utmost priority after all."

"Oh, Merlin," the brunette sighed, stopping herself from slapping her forehead with the palm of her hand. Molly laughingly shooed James, who then threw Hermione a winning wink, and grasped onto Stella's hand to lead her out of the kitchens.

As soon as they were gone, those remaining in the kitchens slipped into easy conversation whilst they finished preparing for Harry's birthday meal. Hermione mostly kept quiet, content in listening to the anecdotes recounted by the older witches inside.

This went on for an hour or so and once they were done, Hermione volunteered to announce to the others that lunch would be served soon.

Once she stepped into the back garden, however, a loud gasp escaped from her lips. "Sirius Black, put my son back on the ground this instant!" she screeched, heart thudding wildly upon spying her youngest messy-haired boy sitting in front of Sirius on his broomstick. Her thunderous eyes swept across the various hovering figures in the sky and she glared at her sheepish husband. "I told you no Quidditch until they're _ten_ , James Potter!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, this won't happen again!" James hollered from above, a tad panicky judging from his tone of voice.

Sirius, on the other hand, loudly sighed. "Merlin, kitten, calm down," he petulantly called, although he and her son were descending from a great height. Even before Sirius's broomstick landed on the ground, Hermione had snatched her five-year-old from the broom and was hugging him tightly against her chest. "Prongslet No. 2 was having so much fun!" He reached forward and pinched his cheek. "Weren't you, little lion?"

"Yes!" Five-year-old Leon Potter happily quipped, his blue Selwyn eyes alit with genuine excitement. "Please, Mummy, again?" He did that thing with his eyes which always melted her heart, but Hermione's motherly instincts overrode whatever stirrings in her heart had been brought on by his very adorable face.

"Once you're ten, you'll be able to fly really high, Leon," Hermione sighed, dropping a kiss onto her disappointed son's mop of brown, messy curls. "I know you want to fly with your father and Harry, but for now, stay on the ground for Mummy, okay?"

Her youngest wore a dejected face but expelled a huge sigh. "Okay," he sighed. Hermione warmly smiled and placed him back on his feet, and he raced towards the younger Weasleys and started playing with them.

Harry was definitely a happy accident, while Stella was planned. What James and Hermione didn't expect was Leon's conception. Nevertheless, they welcomed his birth, his parents just happy that their small family was growing. Hermione had already placed her foot down and refused to make another child after Leon, which James accepted.

"Lunch will be ready soon!" Hermione then called. The various broomsticks hovering over the garden went to land as Hermione turned back towards the kitchens to help prepare.

Lily, whose face was flushed from her flying, immediately jogged towards Hermione and linked arms with her best friend. "Are you all right, Hermione?" she asked as Hermione led them both back inside. "You know, with Harry's Hogwarts letter and all?"

A lovely smile escaped from Hermione's lips. "Of course, I am okay," she said. When Lily pierced her with a look, Hermione deflated, her smile turning forlorn. "I am a little sad, yes, but I've always known Harry will grow up one way or another. I'm just… I'm just happy that he's safe and surrounded by people who'd do anything for him. I'm sure he'll be brilliant at Hogwarts."

Lily sighed, squeezing Hermione's arm in return. "I don't think my heart will take it once Iris starts going to Hogwarts," she complained. "At least my sourpuss will be with my daughters constantly. Sev always points that out to me and I'm _jealous_."

Hermione snorted. "Iris and Ivy will drive Sev mad, I'm sure," she cheekily pointed out. "Especially since both of your daughters look like you so much. I wonder how Sev will handle it once he realises his precious flowers are growing up and starting to show an interest in boys."

Lily's emerald eyes lit up in amusement. " _You_ have to tell me about his expression once that happens, Hermione," she insisted. "Since you'll be at Hogwarts with him."

The younger witch laughed and assured her best friend she'd do that.

When they arrived at the kitchens to help, the others were already carrying the bowls of various meals outside and into the gardens. Fleamont and the Marauders fixed the long table and arranged the plates of food. James herded everybody to gather around and pulled Harry with him to the front of the table.

It was Hermione who brought out the chocolate cake, beaming brightly when Harry's cheeks flushed at the amount of attention he was getting. Harry Potter—past and present—still hated the spotlight, but his blue eyes were twinkling impossibly bright and it was undoubted that he was happy, albeit a tad embarrassed.

Hermione led the singing of 'Happy Birthday' and placed the cake in front of her firstborn. Harry caught her eyes and brightly smiled. James sidled beside Harry, with Leon perched in his arms, while Stella stubbornly tried to push her older brother away to blow the candles out herself.

"Princess, please, today's not your birthday," James lightly admonished. "What did I tell you about waiting for your turn?"

Stella's bottom lip protruded, the tell-tale signs of a tantrum already making an appearance. Hermione shot a glare towards James, knowing full well it was his fault for spoiling their only daughter. James sheepishly smiled in return, also knowing fully that it was his fault.

But Harry, sweet, _sweet_ Harry merely laughed and held onto his sister's hand and said, "We'll blow the candles out together, yeah?"

Hermione and James exchanged an amused glance while Stella vigorously nodded her head.

"Make a wish first, sweetheart," Hermione smiled, reaching forward to lightly pinch Stella's cheek. Her daughter's eyes fluttered close, deep concentration on her face. But Harry's blue eyes stayed open, grinning widely down at his sister. When Stella's eyes flew open, she silently glanced at her older brother, and with Harry's firm nod, the two blew the candles out together.

The guests broke into loud applause, different tones of 'Happy Birthdays' slipping out of their mouths. Harry's cheeks turned bright red with embarrassment and happiness combined.

Hermione smiled, remembering her old Harry Potter's story about his eleventh birthday and Hagrid's disastrous attempt to steal him away from the Dursleys. Now, she was sure this Harry would have fond memories of his eleventh birthday.

Harry met her gaze, smiling widely in return. The brunette reached forward and tried to tame his messy hair, but seeing as he'd inherited his father's dishevelled mop, it was a futile attempt.

"Happy birthday, Harry."

**-ooo-**

Hermione was hanging out near the refreshments table, blue eyes contentedly watching as the numerous guests in her house interacted. She spied Sirius, with nine-year-old Iris Snape and seven-year-old Ivy Snape, sneaking behind an oblivious Severus, who was busy conversing with Arthur Weasley. Mischief was alight in the eyes of the trio and if it weren't for Marlene, who quickly intervened and stopped her fiancée and the little Snapes, Sev would have been drenched in orange juice.

Remus was conjuring various tricks, much to the delight of the older Weasleys, whilst James, together with the Longbottoms, loudly recounted their previous Auror mission to the older witches and wizards in the group. Little six-year-old Anastasia Pettigrew, fondly dubbed Annie by her father, was running around with her cousins Stella and Leon, while a heavily pregnant Mary watched over them. Peter was helping Neville, Ron, and the other remaining Weasleys finish the small treehouse that had become a huge project at the Potter Cottage.

Everywhere she looked, her heart swelled with happiness and peace. The children had now been untouched by Voldemort's reign of terror, and the thought that Ron and Harry and their peers would only hear about the vile wizard through bedtime stories from their parents, placed her heart at ease.

"Why aren't you joining in the fun, Pettigrew?"

Unwittingly, a snort flew out of her mouth when Regulus sidled beside her.

" _Merlin_ , please just call me 'Hermione'," she pleaded, but Regulus merely smirked and gave her a half-hearted shrug.

"Old habits die hard," he pointed out, prompting Hermione to sigh and shake her head in slight exasperation. "You've been well, though?"

"Oh, marvellously," she replied with a smile. "I've long since finished my lesson plans for the next school-year, so I have nothing else to do but prepare for Harry's impending departure."

Regulus's smirk turned into a small, fond smile. "You've made various colour-coded lesson plans for your students again, haven't you?" he asked.

Hermione sheepishly grinned. "Well, if it can help them with their lessons, why not?" she asked. "Headmaster Dumbledore still thinks I'm too barmy and strict, but I've explicitly told my students they do not have to adhere to my colour-coded schedules."

"You know that none of them will adhere to your ridiculous schedule, right?"

"Of course," she laughed. "Nevertheless, I have so much fun making them. I'm sure at least one or two of them appreciate the effort."

"Merlin, you're _barmy_ ," Regulus sighed. "I can't believe I once tried following your stupid schedule."

"Well, my _stupid schedule_ gave you nine OWLs, you prat," she reminded.

He shrugged. "A happy coincidence," he teased. "I do have the brains to keep up with you, you know."

Hermione laughed once more. It felt like a long time since she'd talked to Regulus like this. Ever since he'd become the new Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Black, Regulus had been swamped with bureaucratic shite. He once tried to ask Sirius if he wanted to assume the position when the title was passed onto him, but his older brother told him he'd only be half as good as he was. Nevertheless, Sirius had been wholly supportive of Regulus, trying to give the Black family a better reputation now that their older, more bigoted relatives were buried six feet underground.

"Have you been well, Regulus?" she asked, her eyes glancing at the dark smudges underneath his silver eyes.

"I've been well, yes," he sighed, lifting a hand to tiredly rub his eyes. At the same time, the Black family ring gleamed on his finger, momentarily blinding Hermione. "Still managing. I _hate_ all the paperwork but yeah… yeah, I'm well." He gave her a sideways glance, quirking a suggestive eyebrow. "Have you thought about my proposition yet?"

The brunette rolled her eyes. "I still love James, I'm sorry," she teased in return. "And my three children would be terribly sad if I ran off with their Uncle Reggie."

"Shame," Regulus said, the corner of his lips twitching into a amused smile. "I'm far richer than Potter, you know. Now that I am Head of a very old Pureblood family."

"I don't doubt that one bit," she answered. "And I'm sure plenty of witches are now batting their eyelashes your way, just to catch your fancy."

Regulus made a face. "The media will have a field day once I finally find a proper Black wife," he tiredly sighed. His silver eyes glinted teasingly once more. "You sure you don't want to run away with me, Pettigrew?"

Hermione's eyes caught James's hazel ones from where he stood and she felt her heart flutter, even after all these years. She already had this inkling James would evoke these feelings from her even when they were old and wrinkly and grey. "I'm sure," she said, eyes turning fond when James mouthed a soft 'I love you' before going back to his conversation with Anya and the older Potters.

There was still a certain resigned sadness in Regulus's eyes. Hermione gave him an apologetic smile, wishing that he'd find someone who would love him unconditionally.

"I'm sorry, Regulus," she whispered.

Regulus's cheeks turned ruddy as a scoff escaped from his lips. "Please, Pettigrew, don't you bloody apologise," he admonished.

"Still," she said with a sheepish grin.

He rolled his eyes and pulled one of her curls. "Merlin, don't look at me like that," he sighed.

Hermione chuckled and reached for his hand, giving it a slight squeeze. At the same time, she caught sight of Harry sitting on one of the benches in the garden, seemingly content at watching everyone and not participating in any of the activities. "Oh, Merlin, why isn't Harry having fun?" she worriedly asked, wondering if something had gone wrong, when she'd worked hard to make him feel special today.

"Go on," Regulus said, lightly pushing her away.

The brunette smiled at him and gave him a brief hug, before excusing herself and meandering through the crowd to reach her firstborn.

"Why aren't you playing with Ron and Neville?" Hermione asked, plopping down on the bench beside Harry. She noticed the glint of sadness in his blue eyes before he looked away from his mother's gaze. "Is everything all right, sweetheart?"

Eleven-year-old Harry expelled a huge sigh. "I'm going to miss home, Mum," he said. "I'm going to miss everyone."

Her gaze softened. "Oh, Harry, you'll see me every day in Hogwarts," she pointed out.

"But it's not the same," he reasoned. "You get to go home to Dad and Stella and Leon, while I'm stuck at Hogwarts."

"You'll have plenty of fun at Hogwarts, I promise," Hermione replied. "You'll meet a lot of friends and find yourself involved in a lot of shenanigans, seeing that you're your father's son."

Harry sadly grinned and met his mother's gaze. "I know," he said. "But it's not home."

Hermione felt her heart swelling at his earnest declaration. Ever since Voldemort had been defeated, Hermione, with the help of James, had worked her very hardest to fill their house with abundant love and happiness. It wasn't a hard thing to do, especially because her small family had brought infinite joy to Hermione's life. She was just happy that Harry, who'd once upon a time never had a true family he could build a home with, was reluctant to leave his own home here, where she was with James and his two younger siblings.

"I can sneak you out a few times," she suggested.

Harry's eyes widened. "Mum!" he exclaimed. "But that's against the rules."

Hermione laughed heartily. "Did I ever tell you I was the truest Marauder of us all?" she cheekily asked.

The young wizard snorted, no doubt recalling his father's stories about the adventures of the great pranksters of Hogwarts.

"But really, Harry, I promise you. Hogwarts will be loads of fun," she said.

He finally sighed. "Okay," he said, absentmindedly pushing his slipping glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"So, don't just sit here – go and play with your friends," she urged.

"No, I'm happy just watching everyone," he said with a sigh, leaning against the bench to warmly glance at the ruckus unfolding before them.

Hermione also found herself observing the people in her home, content to know that she was surrounded by people who'd become very important in her life. She threw a sideway glance of her son, noting the happy expression painted on his face also.

"What did you wish for a while ago, Harry?" she asked.

Harry blinked before a sheepish smile grew on his face. "Honestly?" he started. "Nothing, Mum."

"What? Really? Not even a Nimbus 2000?" she teased.

The bespectacled boy snorted. "Please. I caught Dad sneaking in the broom last week," he said. He then jutted his chin towards the table where his assorted, wrapped gifts sat. "Besides, that gift is unmistakably a broomstick. So I guess I knew I couldn't wish for it. And besides…" He trailed off and closed his eyes, a serene smile blooming on his face. "I already have everything I want."

It was a terribly mature thing for a young boy to say, but Hermione had forgotten _this_ was Harry Potter. Although the eyes were different, and maybe his hair was a tad curlier due to the Selwyn genes, he was still Hermione Granger's best friend in spirit, who wanted nothing more in this world but genuine happiness for those he cared for.

Tears prickled Hermione's eyes as her gaze flew towards his unmarred forehead. It relieved her immensely when she started to forget how emerald-eyed Harry Potter's scar looked, after gazing at her blue-eyed Harry Potter for eleven years.

"Then, maybe you'd allow your mother to make a wish for you instead?" she asked.

Harry laughed, his blue eyes dancing in amusement. "Mum, I already know what you'll say," he cheekily pointed out. "You always tell me on my birthday."

"Still, indulge your mother," Hermione said, lips stretching wider into a grin as she reached forward and brushed his messy hair away. Hermione was given a clearer view of Harry's smooth forehead.

For a brief moment, she felt like she was looking at a different version of this boy, emerald eyes gleaming with mischief and innocence. When she blinked once more, it was her blue-eyed son now staring back at her.

A tear slipped down from Hermione's eye as she leant forward and kissed his scar-free forehead.

"Live a happy life, Harry."

* * *

_Fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaand, that's a wrap!
> 
> Fun Fact: the inscription on Peter's monument was shamelessly borrowed from 'Trollhunters' HAHAHAHA. It's just very fitting for Peter's character!
> 
> I tried so hard to include everyone important in this epilogue hahaha but to be really honest with you, that last scene was the only one that really mattered to me. If 'The Long and Winding Road' was Hermione and James's theme song in this story, 'Saturn' is most definitely Harry and Hermione's. I think it's just fitting that the prologue will parallel the epilogue. 
> 
> So yes, thank you all so much for the abundant love and support! Although this fic had definitely stressed me out more than the other fics I've written before, this will always have a special place in my heart. This fic is way out of my comfort zone and I'm still in disbelief I've managed to concoct this ridiculously long fic for 5 months and manage to finish it too! This fic was my quarantine passion project and I'm just glad I'm able to make some of you happy with my little, daily updates. I'm a bit sad I won't be able to update daily anymore, so to compensate, I'd try to reply to all of your reviews in the epilogue hahaha.
> 
> Thank you so, so, so much. I think I'm going to rest from the fanfiction world for a while again. Things are starting to get a bit hectic with my current work so I need to focus all of my attention to that first. I don't think I can really say goodbye to writing, though haha. Truth be told, I have various one-shot ideas for this story but I'm too swamped with real life to find the time to write them hehe.
> 
> Thank you for loving this little world I've created. Thank you for loving the characters I've created—you have no idea how I make little happy whoops when someone points out it was so weird how they're growing attached to Peter hahaha. Still, the ultimate goal was to share my genuine love for my guilty pleasure ship James/Hermione so I hope to read more fics about them in the future!
> 
> That's it! See you all soon and I hope you all live a happy life.
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes)! I might still make moodboards/posts about this fic in the future, but no promises hehe.


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